


Sirens

by Fairy (laterie)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Artist Jackson, Detective Mark, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mark has freckles goddammit!, alternative universe, and Jackson has a belly piercing, they're insane and made for each other, tonnes of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laterie/pseuds/Fairy
Summary: Mark keeps a special bullet for everyone who would try to hurt Jackson
Relationships: Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 42
Kudos: 94





	1. Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> I finished it but parted it into two chapters. I like this AU, tbh so I might keep writing it!! But for now, I'm gonna set the series as finished.

Mark placed two coffee cups on the table in the airport coffee shop and sat down on the seat across from Jackson. Jackson had convinced Christian - his boyfriend - that he wouldn’t be able to make it to their anniversary today. Unbeknown to Christian, he had managed to catch an earlier flight, and when Jackson arrived at LAX, he called his best friend to pick him up so that he could surprise his lover. 

The sparks and shining smile made Mark feel like plastic, undestroyable but easily broken. All Mark had ever wanted was for Jackson to be happy with his work and the man he’d chosen to date. Catching feelings was for someone strong enough who was able to avoid having their heart broken. However, Jackson walked around like a naked nerve – like a tooth bared of enamel. 

Jackson was the person for whom the world was worth saving. 

"Look what I bought for him," Jackson smiled after he sipped his coffee, "you think he's gonna like it?"

He passed the black velvet box to Mark, who only spared a glance at it, not even wanting to know how expensive the Cartier necklace was. Just seeing the logo was enough. He sighed, and when Jackson gave him the biggest puppy eyes ever, Mark gave in and opened it. 

"He's not worth it," Mark said as he leaned against the seat, one of his arms propped on the backrest.

"It's our second anniversary." 

"It’s a miracle that you’ve been able to put up with his stupid ass for so long." Mark closed the box and looked around at the buzzing airport crowd. 

"Every relationship has its flaws." 

"Yours is like a picture that was colored by a two-year-old kid who still hasn’t learned to color inside the lines." 

Jackson scowled and put the box back into his bag, "Rude." 

"Best friends can't be rude," Mark gave him a look, "only sincere." 

They shared a silence that only grew colder and started turning the whole atmosphere into a stiff haze. Mark reached into the pocket of his bomber jacket and pulled out a pack of strawberry jellies. He placed it on the table and slid it in front of Jackson, who was absently stirring his coffee. Mark had tried to push his feelings aside and cultivate a relationship with Jackson's boyfriend, but the differences in their natures made it impossible. Christian was a bartender – a social butterfly, just like Jackson, while Mark was a detective who sacrificed most of his life to protect and serve. And though someone would say that Christian was like Jackson, the opposite was the truth. Underneath the neat shell, a calculating man was hidden. 

Tough, Jackson was proud of Mark and never had wasted an opportunity to tell the world about his best friend; Mark felt his whole life grow cold because a man like Jackson was slipping away. Perhaps it was the work, the bloody fingertips, and the footsteps in the dirt that had turned Mark into a loopy man – into someone who was always lost in thought, scared to catch any feelings so as to not to get hurt more than he already was. Empathy was crucial for a successful detective, yet Mark felt like it was a curse. 

"I'm glad you had time to pick me up," Jackson opened the candy and squeezed the red jelly between his fingers before he put it into his mouth. 

"You know that I care about my district. No murders before I sleep." 

Jackson fought back a smile. He felt horrible laughing at such a morbid joke, but this was Mark, and it was alright to behave less considerately with his best friend, who was nothing but an angel. Usually, while in the bar, Jackson would buy them whiskey and talk about how safe it feels in Mark's district with everyone around. Christian would soon get tired of his boyfriend talking nonstop about Mark, and he would go back to his work. If Mark got a dollar every time, he didn't give a _damn_ about Chris' feelings, he would be rich.

"How was Montana?" Mark played with his spoon in the thin layer of the coffee foam.

Jackson's eyes lit up, "Mesmerizing. I can't wait to show you the photos. I saw a bear!" 

"Yeah, you texted me," Mark chuckled, "glad you're alive, baby." 

"Shush!" Jackson threw a sugar packet at him, "bears are fucking dangerous, Yi En." 

"It was a washing bear!" he laughed, "you tried to be so cool about it, I can't believe you—" 

Jackson threw another sugar at the laughing Mark, who tried to block his attack with his hands. When he was out of sugar packets, he started complaining about Mark being insensitive. Mark laughed even harder at Jackson's pouty face; he looked adorable in his round glasses, with his pink lips moist and pouting. 

So worth of loving kisses. 

"Shut up!" Jackson lunged across the table and smacked his shoulder, "you haven't seen shit of wildlife in your life. You and your freckled nose wouldn't survive without the beach sun." 

"Alright, _alright…_ " Mark fixed his jacket, "I'm an uneducated and uncultured moron." 

The atmosphere warmed up around them. Mark felt the familiar fire in his gut come alive again, and all it took was a glimpse of Jackson's honest smile. 

"I know you couldn’t make it to Montana, but next time you're going with me." Jackson cleaned the mess on the table, "you've promised me that you're going to start taking vacations." 

Mark hummed, "I already know what place I want us to visit. I'm sure you can take amazing photos there." 

It took Jackson only one sparkling look to make Mark spill all the information. Old habits die hard, and since Jackson's eyes were the liveliest embers Mark had ever seen, there was no point in denying Jackson anything. He was opened like a window, letting Jackson into his heart through his sentimental eyes. Even a blind person would be able to see the love glowing from Mark every time he looked at Jackson. 

But best friends should never date. 

"Alaska in winter." 

Just the vision of the snow dusting Jackson’s hair made Mark's heart flutter. There was only one angel in this city, and it was not himself. 

Los Angeles had its winter seasons, but it could hardly be called snowy. They both loved snow and sports; Jackson would yell in three languages when he pushed himself into extremity while Mark would hold his hands or his whole body. And Christian? Who knows?

For Mark, it was strange, watching them be together, mainly in their circle of friends. They were two men who shared some interests; the chemistry was also there, but that was pretty much all Mark could see. Christian could never make Jackson laugh as he did, could never make him stand at the edge of the cliff, and take the most beautiful pictures while Mark was keeping him secure.

It almost seemed like Jackson didn't want to be alone, but the man who could give him the whole world was unavailable to love because best friends shared an entirely different universe that could never collide with the star-crossed lovers. 

Jackson was excited by the idea of traveling to Alaska. He even said he wished he could convince Christian to come with them. Mark shrugged and emptied his cup. Soon it would be Mark's birthday, and he wanted to spend it with his family and Jackson at their beach house. 

"I know what you’re thinking," Jackson chuckled, "but don't worry, because your bro’s got you." Jackson patted the small bag right under his hand. "All your birthday gifts are safe with me. Got you an extraordinary gift in Montana." 

Though Mark hadn't asked for anything, he was happy that Jackson had thought about him while being occupied with his work. "You didn't have to, Jacks." 

"Four days to your birthday."

"But you have an anniversary today." 

Jackson shrugged, "He doesn't even know I'm coming home. Maybe he's having an orgy or something."

Mark frowned, "Don't joke like that. I already told you that I'm warming up a special bullet for him if he ever hurts you." 

"Don't say things like that. You're a policeman, Mark." 

Mark didn't want to joke, poke at open wounds, or pour his love where it was not wanted, but he was sure that he could and would break Christian's bones if he ever tried to hurt Jackson. It was a best friend privilege to go and punch stupid faces. Mark ran his fingers through his black hair and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He was not going to take his words back. Jackson had only one heart, and Mark's job as a best friend and a policeman was to protect it. 

Breaking a heart was like attempting murder. 

"Alright," Jackson licked the coffee from his lips, "let's get out of here." He started gathering his things. 

"I'd take you home, but I have some paperwork to finish at work. I'll drop myself off at the station, and you can take my car. It's gonna be a long night for me anyway."

Jackson stood up, "You're too good to me."

"No, you are." Mark zipped up his jacket when he got to his feet. He grabbed one of Jackson's bags and threw his arm around his shoulder. 

" _Nope,_ you are."

"We're not having this conversation again, baby."

"Stop calling me baby every time you're losing a fight!"

Mark laughed, "that's not it, and you know it." 

They walked to the exit; warm smiles spread across their faces as they headed to the parking lot. Mark loved the spiced orange cologne Jackson used. It always lasted the longest and survived even the unpleasant airplane odor. 

Jackson's warm body and his smell of summer felt like home.

And Mark? He felt cursed and blessed at the same time.

Life was strange. 

**

It did not escape Mark's attention at the first red lights that Jackson started scratching his stomach under his sweatshirt. He gripped the steering wheel and rolled his shoulder in annoyance. They fought _a lot_ because of Jackson getting a belly piercing. Not because Mark wouldn’t find it sexy as fuck, but because it got infected too many times because of Jackson's carelessness. His body refused any type of metal except titan, but Jackson insisted on getting a rose gold piercing with a ruby. When he revealed the outcome of his risky behavior, Mark had two thoughts battling each other for his attention: first was Jackson's wearing Mark's favorite gold, and the second was that his health should always come first. 

"You're wearing it again."

"No." Jackson looked away and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You are."

"I don't know what you’re talking about."

"Of course, you _know_ ," Mark nervously looked at the lights, "or else you wouldn't answer _no._ "

"Too clever, Mr. Detective."

"Jackson, baby…"

Jackson growled, "Here we go again." 

"I'm worried about you," Mark clicked his tongue, patiently drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, "it looked bad the last time."

"It's not," Jackson sank deeper into his seat and lowered his arms on his stomach, "and you know _why._ " 

Mark spared him a short glance before he sighed tiredly, "if he weren't good for nothing, he would never let you wear it when it evidently hurts you."

Jackson groaned, frustrated, "I want to be sexy tonight, alright? Surprise him and be sexy." 

Mark grimaced at that, "Shut up." 

The last thing Mark wanted to hear and imagine was Jackson having sex with that good for nothing dumbass. No matter how many times Mark told his best friend that he could do better, the answer was always the same: ' _Mark, you've been single for the past four years. Do you have any idea at all what it’s like?'_ It was not like Mark had never dated, so he didn't take it seriously because, in fact, Jackson only wanted to annoy Mark so he would stop bringing up the evident lack of interaction between Christian and him. 

"You know…" Jackson chuckled, and Mark immediately knew that his best friend was planning on saying something wicked again. Mark put the radio on full blast so he would not have to hear Jackson being cruel. 

"…when I move my hips, fucking into him, it's always a beautiful sight, to see the ruby…" Jackson yelled through the music. 

"Imagine, you know, me riding that…" 

If someone asked Mark why he’d become Jackson’s best friend, he would say it was because of a high school camping trip. Mark had forgotten his sleeping bag at home because he and his sister, who had to drive him to school, had overslept. Jackson and Mark had been friends at the time, but after Jackson had decided that Mark could stay in his tent and even gave him spare blankets, their relationship evolved. They talked and _talked;_ Jackson begged Mark to stop with his creepypastas, so Mark pushed his cold feet into Jackson's sleeping bag to distract him from the fear. They fought like two kittens and ended up tangled, breathless, and laughing. 

Since then, they’ve become inseparable. 

When Mark caught feelings, he never openly told Jackson, but he didn't even have to. 

There was a line between best friends and lovers, and Mark just sat there on the border, watching Jackson date boys who would never treat him as good as Mark could; these were men that would never get his dumb jokes as good as Mark did. Nobody could ever love Jackson the way only Mark could. 

"You have never bottomed for anyone," Mark rested his arm on the window and rubbed his temple, "why would you do that for that fucker?"

" _Hey,_ don't call him that!" Jackson turned down the volume, "besides, I thought about it while I was in Montana." 

"Please, _green, come on…_ " Mark begged through the endless suffering of red lights in front of him. The universe was laughing at him. 

"Would you like it?" Out of the corner of his eye, Mark could see Jackson hiking his sweatshirt and tank top up to reveal the belly piercing. He rolled his hips against the seat while looking at Mark. 

Jackson was playing with fire, and Mark had been holding his breath until now. He gritted his teeth, refusing to look at his shamelessly teasing friend, and prayed to any god out there that still cared about him. 

"Maybe it will spice up our life, you know…" Jackson flicked the fragile metal on his belly button, "how’s it even…"

Mark snapped at the thought of that loser getting Jackson on his back or making him ride him. If this was the sign from the universe that Mark should step into the game, Mark was already rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to fight even Jackson's stupid, provocative ass. 

"No sex position will save your relationship with that _arschloch."_ Mark finally looked at him, but Jackson didn't move; he challenged Mark into action with a fiery look. When Mark's gaze dropped to the nicely toned abdomen, Jackson clenched his fist around the cloth. Mark could see his body tensing and his breaths increasing. The atmosphere was promptly turning from cold blue to crimson. 

It hurt to see the sadness in Jackson's eyes, to see the proud man drop to his knees for someone who was way below his level. But Mark was still staring across the borderline, unable to touch Jackson. 

"Cover yourself." Mark faced forward again right in time for the orange to turn green. 

He tried to ignore Jackson’s expression turning into remorse as he hugged his body and leaned his head against the window. Mark's arteries burned across his whole body. No matter how much pain he was in or how much Jackson begged him with his eyes, Mark was not a homewrecker; he would never cheat or help cheat. Right now, he only wanted to focus on the road and not on his heart that was shattering for Jackson. 

But ignoring was never Mark's strong suit. He was a hothead when it came to his family and friends. He reached for Jackson's thigh and squeezed it gently. 

"I'm sorry." Jackson shifted under his touch, "it's just I hate seeing you be so desperate to fix something that he doesn't even see as broken." 

Jackson held the hand on his leg, caressing the back of it with his thumb, "I'm sorry too." 

Love could be easy if Mark would stop hiding behind the fence and didn't limit himself with fear of losing Jackson forever. And like this, Mark was still waiting until it would eventually be too late to take a step forward. He was careful, measuring the distance between them, and when they were too close, he stepped back. 

Dear God, it hurt to keep his love to himself. 

"What are you so afraid of?" Jackson asked when Mark stopped the car in front of the police station parking lot. Mark pulled the handbrake but didn't look at Jackson when he replied. 

"This is not the right time or place to have such a discussion," he said gently. "I’ve gotta go." 

Jackson moved fast enough to stop Mark from exiting the car. He grabbed his wrist and yanked Mark back. There should be a law stating that people shouldn't get intimate or try _any_ kind of physical contact in a car. The scent of Jackson's aftershave filled the small space, fueling the need that Mark's body radiated. Mark could sense that something had changed in Jackson when he was in Montana. Maybe it was the yearning for their friendship or Mark reaching an extra high level of delusion, but Jackson didn't seem to be very offended when Mark talked _shit_ about his boyfriend. He looked almost dismissive. 

"I missed you in Montana," Jackson confided. "I remembered our high-school camping trip and all the stories you had told me, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. I was alone in the tent and had all the time in the world to think…" 

Jackson's touch on Mark's hand warmed up his whole body. Suddenly, he felt too warm in the crisp autumn evening. If Jackson had the time, then Mark had the entire world right in his car. His eyes stung, and his throat was closing on its own. He was better than this, he had six years in the police academy to learn how to control his emotions, but Jackson was an element, a fire burning out all the oxygen in the locked car. 

"Say _no,_ and I won't hesitate anymore…" Jackson leaned closer, "I'll get down on my back for him tonight if you say _no_ to me."

Mark shook his head, the tears spilling over, "You're better than this, Jackson, better than forcing me."

"I'm not forcing you."

"What am I even saying _no_ to?" Mark's voice wavered when Jackson was suddenly so close that they shared the same air. 

" _No,_ to me." 

"What does it mean?" 

It was easier to fake confusion and protect his heart from a possible break because, as good as it sounded, Mark would rather stay at his side than to get his hopes shattered. He wouldn’t be able to get up after such a blow again. There was no way for Jackson not to kill the last bit out of his existence. The world was going mad, so _mad_ that reality was spinning around Mark. 

"I know that you're scared too, but you've never told me the reason. So, I waited and _waited_ because I didn't want to force you or make it awkward between us…" Mark could feel Jackson's breath against his lips. 

"But I guess I'm making it awkward right now." He lowered his head, and when Mark felt the drop, the touch and weight of it on his shoulder, his whole body tensed like he was a second away from a heart-attack. 

"Why can't you tell me?" Jackson was audibly suppressing his sobs. "What holds you back?"

What a piece of shit he was to make his love cry. Mark pulled back the last bits of his sanity and sneaked his hands into the tiny space between them that the separated seats provided and took Jackson's hands in his. The same rough hands that controlled the violin strings with passion every time Jackson dropped his camera. Everything Jackson's hands touched was an art, and Mark? He wanted to become one of Jackson's art pieces too. 

"Are you gonna break up with him for me?" Mark asked. "Would you push everyone away just for me? No more meeting new people with the vision of dating them. Would you exchange fresh new bonds, the charm of a new love for an old, dusty one?" 

Jackson groaned into his shoulder. "Is that a confession, Mark?”

“I don’t know.” Holding Jackson like this meant the world to him, and the thought of letting him go back to that moron made Mark’s blood boil. 

Jackson was no fool, and he knew about the consequences of his actions, but knowing that Jackson was afraid of ending up alone made Mark halt in his decision. Jackson didn’t answer his question. Instead, he just pressed his cheek against Mark’s shoulder and stilled. 

“You didn’t answer my questions.” Mark thought of angling his head just for a bit to touch Jackson’s hair, so he could kiss him and nuzzle into him. For a second, they could look like a real couple. However, Jackson lifted his head and withdrew from Mark, who refused to let go of his warm hands. 

“You’re scared to tell me, so what I am saying _yes_ to, Mark?” 

Mark shook his head.

“You are.”

“Why did you ask, then?” Mark narrowed his eyes at his best friend, “Why seduce me and provoke me, ask me things when now you’re saying that you don’t trust me?” 

“I do trust you—” 

“Why do you provoke me all the time?!”

“Because!” Jackson snapped, “I want you to tell me finally what you are feeling! What are you thinking about when you look at me with these devoted eyes! You try to hide behind our friendship, but I know you better, Mark!” 

It was the word _‘devotion’_ that triggered Mark into action. He let go of Jackson’s hands and leaned away with a frown. He sat there for a while, silently thinking, but Jackson’s words felt like a slap, and Mark’s pride wouldn’t let him think about anything else other than the fact that he had been humiliated. Jackson would never force him into anything – he was always patient with Mark, assuring him about things. Maybe he was too patient, and now Mark’s worries were simply coming true. 

“Does it make you feel good, _huh_?” Mark asked, gripping the steering wheel, “When men fall for you when you hear them confess, giving you all their attention? Is that what you want from me? To confess, so you can feel a bit better for being in a relationship with that asshole who uses you?” 

There was no room for them to take a breath and give it a second before the storm. Jackson gasped at Mark, hurt beyond explanation. It was stupid to act offended when all Jackson wanted was honesty from a man who had been orbiting him for years. When Jackson had started to date that moron, he could've asked Mark if he felt the same. But it looked like Jackson's senses were clouded by his fear, too. 

Hurting Jackson because of his wounded ego was the last thing Mark wanted.

“Fuck!” he hit the steering wheel with his open palm, “ _fuck this shit_ , Jackson!” he sobbed loudly. 

“Mark…” 

“I’m sorry.” He quickly opened the door and left Jackson alone in the car before disappearing into the police station. 

He should go back and hug Jackson, tell him that no matter how shitty men acted with him, he - Mark, his best friend - would never hurt him and never called him a _whore_ like Christian did when he was drunk. Mark was better in Jackson’s eyes, he was an angel, and angels were supposed to give selfless love and respect.

Mark maneuvered around tables, ignoring his colleague's curious looks, even dodging Jaebeom when he called out his name. Mark shut the door of the washroom and leaned heavily against the washbasin. He lowered his head, taking deep breaths, but the air only fed the flames in his chest. Loving Jackson mainly hurt because Mark was scared shitless of losing Jackson the moment he’d confess. 

What a stupid shit he was, that he could enter the worst parts of L.A., see the absolute trash of human beings, have the guts to see whole blood baths, but he couldn’t face his feelings for Jackson. 

Mark splashed cold water over his face and closed his eyes. 

_Jackson, Jackson, Jackson_ waseverywhere. 

There was not a single thing that Mark didn’t know about Jackson, yet he couldn’t say what would happen when Jackson got home to Christian. Fucking, bottoming, whatever the heck was going to happen, it was Mark’s fault, and Mark’s alone. He gripped the rim of the washbasin and gritted his teeth. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, jolting the porcelain, “ _fuck_!” 

He knew this would happen. Maybe kissing Jackson senseless in the car would have been less destructive than running away after he had accused him of being manipulative. 

“Mark!” The door was thrown open, a disturbed Jaebeom standing in the doorway. “Your car has been in an accident.”

**

_Jackson entered the balcony with his violin in his hands while Mark was smoking and watching the cloudy city swimming in the dusk of autumn. Mark wanted to say that it was too humid for Jackson to bring his violin outside, but his best friend simply sat on the chair and laid his instrument on his thighs._

_“You should go home,” Mark said as he exhaled smoke, “Chris must be going crazy.”_

_“Yeah, they all do when you spend time with your best friend. Get triggered easily.”_

_Mark snorted at that. “Then maybe you should date your best friend.”_

_“Is that a confession, Mark?”_

_Mark decided to ignore him and continue to stare into the mist, his thoughts bouncing from Jackson to work constantly. Coming home to Jackson in the past four days had been nothing but a sweet dream to Mark. The last case had left him messy, with nightmares attacking him almost every night, so Jackson had decided to pack a small bag and a brand-new dream catcher. Mark welcomed him silently, without any defense, and let Jackson hug him._

_“It’s not a joke until you say so,” Jackson put his violin under his chin, but then Mark stubbed out his cigarette and swung around to face Jackson, who lowered his violin again._

_“Are you avoiding Chris for some reason?”_

_Jackson smiled, “Of course not.”_

_“Then you should go home. He’s gonna misinterpret your long visit.”_

_Jackson shrugged, “We’ve been dating for only four months. Besides, if he doesn’t trust me, then what’s the point? If he thinks I would prioritize him over you—”_

_“Oh, Jackson…” Mark shook his head with a smirk, “he’s definitely gonna punch me one day.”_

_Jackson got up swiftly. “Don’t overreact…” he giggled, “he’s not violent.”_

_“You surely have no idea what impact you have on people,” Mark observed his profile, the beautiful line of his nose and lips. In this pale, blue light, Jackson looked like a vivid painting against a cold cement wall._

_“Well,” Jackson leaned his hip against the railing and set his violin to his neck, “as long as I don’t have a bad impact on you.” He smiled before his bow touched the strings._

_Who would say that Jackson only wanted to know Mark’s opinion on his life? That nobody ever mattered as much as Mark? Men who chased Jackson for his energy soon faded away into the background. The only few friends Jackson had known how to keep tempo with him. Jinyoung would usually bring his two kids and let them tire Jackson out. But Mark’s aura had been getting darker with each case he’d solved as a homicide detective. His melancholy had eaten up a generous portion of Jackson’s light. Mark had changed a lot since he’d entered the Ninth district._

_“You’re here with me,” Mark said between the lines of the melody Jackson played, “I would never chase you away, and even if I would….”_

_Jackson’s bow stopped in the middle as he looked at Mark._

_“I know you wouldn’t leave me behind.”_

_Jackson put his violin down, held the bow in the same hand, grabbed Mark by his nape, and pulled him into a hug._

_“You don’t have to be scared of me leaving you, ever.”_

**

The accident had happened right in front of the police station when Jackson veered the car onto the road. He didn’t notice the red Toyota coming from his left side. The vehicle had crashed into the driver's side and nailed Jackson to a lamp. It’d happened a few minutes after Mark's outburst in the washroom. 

The police were already closing off the area, and Jaebeom assured Mark that they called an ambulance. The commissioned shared much more information with Mark, but all he could see was the wrecked car – a door that couldn’t be opened, so they had to wait for the fire department. Jackson was stuck in Mark’s car, unconscious and bleeding from his head. 

Mark felt numb. 

Shortly after Mark stepped forward to the car, it’d started raining. The web of cracks on the window disrupted Jackson’s features. Mark lifted a shaking hand and touched the glass. He could see that Jackson was still breathing, but the amount of blood on the car's interior was alarming. Something was wrong. 

The rain beat down upon Mark’s face and drummed against the metal. Now he could hardly see Jackson from behind the curtain of water. Someone was trying to explain to him why they couldn’t risk breaking the front window, but Mark wasn’t listening. The blue and red lights disturbed the night and reflected them against the broken window, creating a strange rainbow in the streetlights. 

The ambulance arrived together with the firefighters.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, the rain shushing his voice, “I promise I’ll be a better person, but _please…_ ” his lips tremored, “Come back to me.” 

While the medics and firefighters pushed everyone back, Mark sat on the curb, feeling so heavy that he couldn’t even lift his head when Jaebeom joined him in the rain. The world around Mark was a mix of lights, words, and sounds. It made him anxious. He still couldn’t comprehend that he had talked with Jackson just a few minutes ago – the same Jackson that was now unconscious in the car. 

Of course, it was his fault. 

Because if he weren’t such a halfwit, such an asshole, he would’ve confessed years ago and taken care of Jackson so he would never have been distracted because of their fight and gotten into a car accident. Mark’s shoulders curled in on themselves, and his whole body convulsed as his face portrayed a painful grimace. He covered his face with a wail so heartbreaking that Jaebeom couldn’t find any comforting words for him.

They sat in the rain, Mark crying his heart out. 

“I’m such a piece of shit,” Mark rubbed his face with his hands. “Shameless piece of shit.”

“ _Hey,_ ” Jaebeom nudged him with his shoulder, “they've opened the door.” 

Mark lifted his head, blinking away the haze from his eyes. The firefighters made room for the medics, who immediately started to examine Jackson’s body. They were careful with pulling him out of the car because of his head injury. Mark’s hand shot to Jaebeom’s and squeezed it tightly. 

“I’m going with the ambulance. Tell the captain I had to go!” Mark rose on his feet.

“Mark!” 

“I have to!” 

**

Mark was trying to call Chris to let him know what had happened and mainly that the asshole should bring Jackson his clothes and toiletries. After five messages, Mark gave up. Even if Chris would’ve read it, who knew where he was, and if he was at work, he had a good reason to pretend he didn’t see the missed calls. There was no one else whom Mark could call. Jackson’s parents had passed away five years ago, and his brother lived in Australia. 

He stood up again, pacing the hallway in E.R., not noticing the hospital personnel and random patients. A nurse asked if he needed anything, and Mark shook his head. Her name was Isabella Park, and when she disappeared behind the glass door, Mark reached for his phone faster than you could say _now._ He dialed Jinyoung’s number, and this time he didn’t have to beg. 

Jinyoung was _always_ there. 

“Please come, quickly…” Mark sat on the bench, rubbing his eyes. “No, one of the medics told me that he’s going to be alright, but he hit his head and is unconscious.” 

Mark nodded again, unaware of the fact that Jinyoung couldn’t see him. He was mentally exhausted and mentally lacking. After a few minutes, Mark gave up and was only silent, with Jinyoung asking if he was alright. Mark had no energy to communicate anymore. 

“Come, please…” he begged again, “I’ll go and…” 

Mark sighed, holding Jackson’s keys in his hand. “I’ll bring him his things since Chris is not picking up my calls.”

 _“Mark,_ ” Jinyoung said gently, _“there’s still time. It’s been only thirty minutes since you messaged him. If he’s at work… listen, I know you’re smarter than this. Don’t pick a fight with him. That’s the last thing Jackson needs right now.”_

“I’m just bringing him his clothes,” Mark’s brow furrowed. “I won’t let him walk around with his bare ass on display.”

Jinyoung sighed, “ _Understandable, but still…”_

“Just come.” Mark hung up. 

Mark sat down on the bench with the hospital questionnaire he got from the reception. After filling in the basic requirements such as Jackson’s name, address, and social number he’d found in Jackson’s wallet, he paused at the family section. Everything would’ve been different if Jackson’s parents were still alive if he hadn’t developed a syndrome of loneliness – of abandonment. Mark cursed himself for blaming someone who’s been dead for years –blaming Jackson, who was also only a victim of society. Mark was desperate for a conclusion, for someone or something to blame – to ease his pain. 

With fresh tears in his eyes, he put his name and number in the family section and left a signature on the dotted line. It took him another fifteen minutes to calm down and look presentable again. He left the papers at reception and asked the nurse to call him immediately when it would be safe to see Jackson. 

“Be careful, detective…” she said with a strange glimpse in her eyes that followed Mark for the rest of the way out of the hospital. 

How strange that these people could remember so many faces after all the years. Mark himself had some scars on his body and had visited the hospital bed twice in his life. The first was when he was a teenager, getting his appendix removed, and the second when he got shot in his shoulder in action. 

Both times Jackson was by his bed together with Mark’s family. 

Mark hailed the first taxi and told the driver Jackson’s address. He unlocked his phone and clicked his tongue in anger but not disappointment – he would have to expect something from Christian to be able to feel like that in the first place. 

The taxi left Mark standing in the rain by the curb. When he looked up to see the bedroom lights on at the third floor, Mark was overcome with a fit of anger so silent and composed that it didn’t even occur to him that he should take a few breaths and think of Jackson in the hospital and only then act. The whole tragedy was beyond him right now. Somehow his mind managed to push Jackson out of the equation and leave Mark standing alone in front of the apartment door with Christian. Their conflict reached such a high personal level that Mark felt like Christian’s whole being was made to irritate him to the marrow of his bone. 

When Mark unlocked the door and quietly stepped inside the apartment, he could immediately hear two male voices and muffled giggles. Mark closed his eyes for a second, feeling the headache creeping over his spine. Jackson’s cologne that he hadn’t change for years transcended his body like a drug, making Mark week in his decisions and the promises he had made. 

Jackson was in the hospital while his boyfriend was fucking someone else in their shared bed. 

Mark felt tears prickling in his eyes, but it was not for himself this time. Jackson, who had never once in his life done something wrong or even raised his voice at someone, the man who would give his everything to the people he loved, was being insulted by his own lover. But _now_ Jackson was safe, away, and healing from the pain Mark caused him. Jackson didn’t know how much Christian had already hurt him. 

Mark gritted his teeth, unable to listen to the two fuckers anymore. 

“I promised you, baby,” he whispered, “I promised _you._ ”

Mark's expression turned from hurt to anger when he finally moved to the bedroom in long strides. The moment when he shoved the door open, he pulled out his gun and aimed at Christian, who stilled in the bed, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of an unknown boy.

The silence was as if everyone had died on the spot. Their hearts stopped in the middle of a sentence and quit the scene. The boy stared at Mark in horror, not able to even move. Mark’s hand was steady, his finger on the trigger, and just then, when a tear dropped from his eye, Chris slowly unwrapped his arm from the boy and carefully lifted them. 

“Mark—”

“Shut the fuck up, or I swear to God I’ll shoot your brain out!” 

“Alright,” Christian gulped, “just put the gun down. Mark, I beg you. You’re scaring me.”

“I said, shut the fuck up!” 

The boy looked like he would start to cry soon. He was hugging Jackson’s pillow; he was even sitting on the side of his mattress. Mark aimed the gun at him, and the boy jerked away and jumped from the bed immediately. 

“Please! Don’t kill me! Please!” 

“Mark, this is insane!” Christian tried again. “Let Aaron leave! This is only between us!”

Of course, he’d say something like that; he would even use the boy's name to soften Mark’s heart. As if he hadn’t spent five years in the academy and another two years in special forces and didn’t have three years of experience in the field as a homicide detective. Christian was nothing but a joke to him. 

“You take your clothes and get the fuck out of here!” Mark nodded to the bedroom door. “You think that the man in the pictures is his brother or what? Don’t look at me with those dirty eyes, you whore, and get the fuck out!” 

Christian frowned, “You don’t talk to him like that!”

Mark’s heart burst open, liters of blood spilling into his guts, making him see red. He shot. The bullet hit the wall above Christian’s head. Aaron ran away, screaming. 

“You piece of shit!” Mark spat. “You have the guts to talk to me like that after all you’ve done to Jackson?!” 

“And who you are to judge our relationship!” Christian yelled back, adrenaline running through his veins. “Shoot me, you fucker! Go on! Shoot me and make Jackson’s life even more miserable!” 

Mark saw the fear in the man’s eyes. No matter how much he tried to look like sturdy, fearless macho, Mark could smell fear from miles away. He bathed in that every day, cursed to the very bone of his body. If it weren’t for Jackson, his whole life would be painted black. 

“Shoot me, you psychopath!” Christian yelled, tears spilling from his eyes. “You think you know me the best! All Jackson sees is you! All the time, it was only _you_!” 

_Funny,_ Mark thought as he watched the bartender collapse under the weight of his own emotions. Funny how Mark thought the same thing when Jackson started to date Christian. Everything crumbled, his entire world fell apart like a house of cards, but Mark was silent the whole time. He kept suffering and cradling his own heart when it couldn’t take the pain anymore. 

“You had no right to hurt Jackson this way!” Mark hissed. “Cheating is no answer! If you fell in love with that boy, you should’ve ended it and not cheated on Jackson!” 

“Stop saying his name!” Christian furiously ran his hands through his hair, “I love him!” 

“You don’t do fucking _shit!_ ” 

“How would you feel while being with someone whose heart belongs to someone else?! You pretend that Jackson never hurt me! But he got into a relationship with me while loving you!” 

Mark shook his head, processing the information. He had chosen to be blind to Jackson’s feelings out of the paralyzing fear of getting them hurt beyond repair. Mark was a mess, and Jackson deserved the whole world, not a man who thought he could change the world but fell on his face the first day. He was a foolish man filled with issues and love, and this mix of emotions made him anxious and scared of commitment. 

“So what? You chose to hurt him like this?!” Mark’s voice dropped, “In the most humiliating way?”

“He’s been cheating on me for two years,” Christian said, his voice cold and unsteady, “his head was away all the time. He never loved me. How could he humiliate me this way?”

Mark gazed at him, awestruck. “He loved you more than your small peabrain can understand! You know nothing about Jackson!” 

“But you, of course, do.” He gripped the edge of the mattress. “You know everything the best, _yeah_?”

“Jackson is in the hospital, you piece of shit!” Mark yelled. “You should’ve at least had enough decency to send your bunny home when you read my messages!” Mark saw the phone lying on the nightstand.

“What?!”

“I want you out!” Mark lowered his gun down, “I want you the fuck out of his apartment!”

Christian stood up swiftly, “Why’s he in the—” he grabbed his phone and went through the multiple messages Mark sent to him. “ _No, no…_ ” 

“Shame, you’ve been too balls deep in someone to notice, right?” Mark was getting angry again. The finger on the trigger itched.

“Mark, I didn’t—”

Christian’s shocked expression looked honest. His hands shook as he stared at his phone and then at Mark, who locked his gun and put it back in its case. Mark sighed; he had to look insane right now. Waving his gun around and yelling nonsense. A scared fool who didn't let anyone love him though it was destroying him. 

“That bullet was for you,” Mark muttered. “Consider yourself lucky. You can go and rat me out if you want. I don’t care.” Honestly, he deserved to get suspended after his emotional outburst. “I promised Jackson that I would never hurt you.”

“I – didn’t know if he knew—”

“You’re a fucking cheater, Christian! You have no right to do anything! There’s never a good enough reason to cheat on someone! If you were unhappy, you should’ve talked or broken up with Jackson! Why do you all think that paying someone the same shit is the right answer! Why can’t you be better? Don’t you see that you’re punishing yourself too? I hate this!” Mark felt his body giving in. He was so stressed out from the whole night, his clothes were wet, and his body trembled from the cold and anger. 

“You don’t know how it is,” Christian dropped onto the bed. “How was it when he said your name while we made love. I thought, I always thought _we were making love…_ it fucking hurts!” 

Mark turned around, his head giving him a sarcastic thumbs up. He’d chosen to protect Jackson while he kept hurting everyone around him with his indecisive behavior. Why would Jackson love someone as messed up as him? 

“I’m going to pack his things and leave…” Mark decided. While his hands worked in the closet, his mind was back on the balcony, where Jackson had played Bach to him on his violin. Mark was a step away from kissing the hell out of him. 

His mind went back to the patio where Jackson laughed at Mark’s stupid joke, Mark just a half step away from stealing that smile for himself. 

His mind went back to the pub where Jackson had cried when his parents died and begged Mark to stay with him forever, and Mark was just standing there beside Jackson and ready to ask him to be his for forever. 

His mind went back to the car, where Jackson had asked Mark to be his, and Mark was already in Jackson’s personal space, breathing the same air, but he wasn’t ready to say _yes._

“Make him happy,” Christian said as Mark was crouching and filling a small bag with Jackson’s clothes. “At least one of us should make him happy.” 

Mark stopped, probing the soft material of Jackson’s shirt. The sweet fragrance from the closet was making him dizzy. Jackson could’ve been gone by now – away from him, next to his parents, and there’d be _nothing_ Mark could do to bring him back or tell him how much he loves him; how his heart was no longer in one piece because Jackson always managed to steal a part of it for himself. How it was killing him slowly by Jackson’s smiles and affection. Love didn’t need bodies. It required hearts and brains like a monster waiting in the darkness. 

How could he do it?

How could he stop being a coward?

Mark dropped onto his ass and clutched the piece of cloth in his hands. He whimpered before he buried his face in the fabric and let his tears sink in. 

“Don’t be a fool,” Christian said as he lit a cigarette, “and make yourself happy, too.” 

**

Mark stopped at his place to shower and change. He looked like shit, and the last thing he wanted was for Jackson or anyone else to see him as garbage. Most of the time, Mark worked on autopilot. Wash, put clothes on, take aspirin, call a cab again, just _go_ and do whatever keeps you alive. 

He met Jinyoung right in front of the hospital entrance, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. Mark stood next to him under the roof and inserted a cigarette between his lips. Jinyoung didn’t say anything about Mark breaking his promise to Jackson that he would try to stop smoking. 

In times like these, one held onto any comfort that was reachable. 

“How’s my baby?” Mark asked, exhaling the smoke. 

“I talked to the nurse and to the doctor who performed the surgery,” Jinyoung looked away from Mark. “They said he should wake up soon.” 

“Nothing serious happened?”

He shook his head, “’Few stitches on the side of his forehead, some bruises, and a dislodged shoulder.”

Mark hummed, his breath unsteady as he inhaled the nicotine. There was nothing he could do about this situation now. The rain had at least stopped, the city breathing the midnight mist in like a dragon. It was three in the morning, but Mark had no intention of closing his eyes and going to sleep. He was ready to drown in his silence and beg the heavens for Jackson to forgive him. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

“I fucked up, he got distracted, didn’t see the car, and _boom,_ ” Mark shrugged. “Hate me. I deserve to be hated.” 

“That’s a pretty _markish_ thing to say,” Jinyoung sighed. “I’m not Jackson, to know how to read your cryptic messages.” 

“I wasted so much time,” Mark threw the cigarette away and rubbed his face with his palm, “but how do you conquer yourself?”

“You run the risk of losing people all the time,” Jinyoung grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer, “all you can do now is tell him why you _fucked up,_ as you said. Jackson deserves to know the truth, Mark.” 

Mark pushed his hair back, not caring how messy it was when it fell back into his eyes. When he glanced across the street, he saw a woman holding a basket of roses, looking from side to side, making sure the road was safe to be crossed. His first thoughts on anything were always Jackson, just like now when he remembered how Jackson had talked about roses being cliché these days, but Jackson loved them anyway. 

Mark couldn’t breathe without thinking about Jackson. 

“It’s so late.” Mark shoved his arms into his jacket pockets to search for a handkerchief. 

“They won’t let you see him anyway, Mark,” Jinyoung sighed, “you could’ve waited till morning.”

“Why didn’t you?” He blew his nose.

Jinyoung hesitated before smiling, “You know it feels wrong to know that Jackson is alone at the hospital.” 

Mark snorted at that, “Damn.” 

“Well, I’ll be leaving,” Jinyoung rolled his shoulders tiredly. “You do what’s right, Mark. Your happiness is in your hands.”

Except that he’ll probably get suspended, and once Jackson learns what Mark has done in his apartment, he’ll send him flying through an open window. _Oh God,_ there was a hole in the wall. There was no use in lying to Jackson anyway. 

“He’s gonna be so mad.” 

“I’m sure that whatever happened between you two can be solved peacefully.”

“No,” Mark shook his head, “you don’t understand. I did the only thing he begged me not to do.”

Jinyoung looked at him with wide eyes, no words coming from his shocked mouth until he finally met Mark’s eyes. “You killed Christian?!” 

_Damn_.


	2. of the past

Mark had fallen asleep in the hospital waiting room with Jackson's overnight bag lying next to him. His head was lolled back, his mouth open, and he was snoring until someone shook his shoulder. Mark groaned, feeling as if his spine was in flames. He hadn't known that he could fall asleep in a sitting position in a noisy room. He hissed as he rubbed his nape and blinked the haziness away. 

"Sir, it's seven," a young nurse tried to talk to him, "you can't sleep here anymore." 

Before Mark could nod, he sneezed loudly, "I'm sorry."

"You'll catch a cold."

"Done." Mark slowly stood up, massaging his neck. "Is… _can_ I—"

The nurse observed him, but all Mark could do was spout nonsense as his brain was in a catastrophic state. He lacked sleep, food, and liquids. She sighed and sympathetically patted his shoulder. "You're the detective my friend at reception talked about, right?" 

Mark hummed. He had to look stupid as hell.

"Well, visiting hours start at nine."

"But I brought him clothes and—"

She smiled softly, "The morning check-up is done, so I believe it's safe to let you in. But you have to promise me to keep it low." 

Mark nodded quickly, "Anything." 

The anxiety that choked Mark was fading away with each step he took to Jackson's room. Strangely, Mark didn't feel a bit of anger. Why should he still be angry at Christian, who'd never been his priority anyway? That asshole would be better off packing his things now so that when Mark drove Jackson back home, the place would be clean.

The nurse opened the door for Mark and nodded with a smile when Mark mouthed a silent _'thank you so much'_ to her. She must have broken some important intern rule for him.

When Mark stepped inside, a pair of tired brown eyes met his. Mark's heart started beating wildly; perhaps it wanted to migrate over to the cardiology ward to get a check-up. Jackson still managed to look breathtaking even with his head and shoulder bandaged, wearing that dumb white dotted pajama. It hadn't even been a day since they'd brought Jackson into the hospital, but Mark felt as if more time had passed. 

"Hey…" Jackson smiled at him.

Why on earth did the universe think it was alright to introduce him to Jackson and then give Mark insecurities and mental disorders to be forever scared to touch him? 

Mark stepped closer and dropped the bag on the floor near the bed. There was no chair, so Mark put his whole weight on the edge of the bed and wiped his teary eyes. His cold heart was, however, filled by icebergs instead. Although Jackson was nothing but sunshine, Mark kept his walls up. And for what? So that he could one day collapse to Jackson's feet like a loser? 

"I'm sorry," Mark squeezed his uninjured hand and bowed his head to Jackson's chest, "forgive me, please." 

Jackson sighed under him, "Your head is heavy."

With a soft yelp, Mark pulled away. "But it's so small," he said, pushing his messy hair back.

Jackson laughed and immediately regretted it when a pulsating pain shot through his head. "You're so dumb, sometimes."

"My brain is full of shit, that's why," he pouted.

Just one of Jackson's smiles could erase the horrors of the previous day. Like a fool, Mark fell deeper into an endless sea of clouds. With Jackson, it was always about flying and never reaching the ground. No matter what negative emotions crippled Mark's soul, his best friend was always there, holding onto him. Often Mark thought about what made Jackson stay. According to the police psychologist, there was nothing special about Mark – maybe his antics and manic episodes that were the norm for him. Mark could say that although his mind looked like dirty snow from the sidewalk, at least it was still snow. 

"You've been staring for too long," Jackson broke the thin thread of his thoughts, "any longer, and it means you either want to kill me or fuck me."

Mark squeezed his hand, brushing Jackson's knuckles with his thumb. He kept staring after that, burning the image of Jackson into his brain to make it last forever. 

"Well," Jackson licked his dry lips and looked away, "I wrecked your car. I'm sorry, I'll pay the expense." 

"Don't worry about it."

When Mark leaned in, Jackson immediately darted his eyes to him, strange expectations written all over his face. How far would he go to protect Jackson, to make him happy? _Kill_ his unfaithful lover? That was another topic Mark had to bring up. The weight of his guilt made him feel like a wrecking ball, so heavy and dangerous that it could end his friendship with Jackson. 

"You're overthinking again," Jackson turned onto his side, his cheek cutely pressed against the pillow. "You're so terrible, Mark…" 

"I have so many things to tell you." 

Jackson sighed, "This is not going to be like in the movies, right? Where my close encounter with death opens your eyes, and you kiss me madly?" 

Mark felt the tips of his ears warming up. He quickly looked away, his hands getting colder. It wasn't that Jackson had asked for a kiss while still in a relationship with Christian, but it was evident that he'd already abandoned the whole idea of him being with someone else other than Mark. What scared Mark the most were the waves of emotions Jackson drowned him in. 

"I get it," Jackson freed his hand and gently rubbed Mark's forearm. "I'm pushing too much." 

The pressure in Mark's chest was alarming now. If he survived this visit without getting a panic attack, then maybe next time he'd be brave enough to tell Jackson that he likes him. That would be a start. 

"You're injured. I shouldn't—"

"Mark," Jackson looked at him with a sigh, "if you want to break my heart, then do it while I am still in the hospital." 

Mark frowned. "Dumbass."

"Still better than you," Jackson pinched his side. "Talk to me." 

Someone could lock Mark in a vice grip, and they still wouldn't be able to make him turn around and face Jackson again. The stubbornness brought Mark where he was now – into the Ninth District, where he had become one of the best homicide detectives in the country. Unfortunately, being this headstrong also had its flaws, especially when it came to Jackson, who always knew when to ease up and when to push, unlike Mark, who always planted his feet in the ground and refused to budge. 

"Mark, _please…_ " Jackson's fingers ran across the small of his back, "don't do this to me now."

If Jackson wanted answers, it wasn't the greatest idea to touch Mark as if he deserved better. His emotions were parabolic; the curve was so weird that if someone connected him with an electroencephalograph, the paper wouldn't be wide enough even to measure his brain waves. 

"G, you're injured, and you've just undergone surgery. This is not the right time."

"Knew you'd say that," Jackson sneered. "You're so easy to read sometimes." 

Mark nervously gripped the edge of the mattress. "Then you shouldn't have brought up _that_ topic if you already know. I don't want to pick up where we left off, I want you to be able to get well soon." 

"You're so stubborn. What should I do with you…" Jackson pulled the duvet to his nose, "you still don't get it." 

Mark's body tensed again, "I _do_ get it! But you always choose ridiculous moments to tell me!" 

"To tell you what?" 

_Shit,_ Mark thought as he got caught in Jackson's trap like a naïve teenager. There was so much on the tip of his tongue, but his thoughts now resembled chicken scratch. But _fuck it_ if Jackson wasn't right in everything he said. Mark wanted to toe-off his shoes and lay down next to him. He wanted to hold him until he got better, and then he'd even kiss Jackson madly as he wished. 

"I'm not dying, M." Jackson shifted to bend his leg and lean it against Mark's back. "My head might hurt, but it's nothing serious, and if you don't want me to smack _your_ head with my other arm, then you'd better look me in the eye and tell me that you don't want me so we can finally move on. You sitting here and looking like a beaten dog is not helping anyone. It hurts you, and I am tired of this treatment. I can't wait forever." 

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose. _Oh,_ how much he wanted to slide his hands under that duvet, touch Jackson's thigh, squeeze it, kiss it once, then twice. It would take zero effort to expose his ass and groin. Mark growled, massaging his forehead in frustration. 

"You do know that I am basically naked under that duvet." 

No river was deep enough to drown Mark's denial. 

He quickly stood up and grabbed the bag, placing it on the foot of the bed. "I brought you pajamas." 

"You gonna dress me? I am an arm down." 

Mark put his hands on his hips, but no matter how hard he was mentally punching himself, a smile managed to slip through his cold mask. 

"I saw that," Jackson smirked. "You're losing this fight." 

" _Oh, yeah?_ " Mark arched an eyebrow at him. "Let's see about that when I have my hands on your bare ass."

Jackson's eyes widened in anticipation, and Mark swore that sparkle could light a forest. It was what Jackson had asked of him, right? For him to throw away his doubts, to unlock all his doors for Jackson. Shame that they weren't in a romantic movie so that Mark could suddenly snap out of his dark demeanor and accidentally fall on a naked Jackson. 

"You keep staring at me, Mark." Jackson lifted his hips and searched under his back for some reason, which Mark didn't want to know. "Is it enough for you?"

"What are you doing?" Mark pointed at the weird angle. "You want to break your spine, too?"

"If you were man enough, you would help me fix my stupid pajama. It untied." 

"How are you this absurd?" Mark threw his arms in the air. "Stop wiggling like that!" Irritated, he walked up to Jackson.

His naked ass was nothing Mark hadn't seen yet, but there had never been this tension between them. Jackson wasn't sending signals anymore; he was throwing whole concepts at Mark. Instead of tying the piece of cloth together, Mark pushed Jackson back on the mattress. Their eyes locked, and Jackson immediately grabbed Mark's hand that was resting on his abdomen. He squeezed it almost painfully, endless pleas pouring from his lips, but Mark couldn't hear anything.

"You idiot," Jackson's breath hitched, "don't pretend you can't _feel_ _it._ " 

By now, Mark's breathing hitched to something resembling an asthma attack. He was so close to snapping, giving up his sanity, and throwing himself at Jackson. Luckily, Jackson couldn't use his other hand because Mark was sure he would've dragged Mark into the bed or punched him by now. 

"You're so pretty," Jackson angled his head, appreciating Mark's features. "Your freckled nose is the cutest thing…"

Mark bowed his head and fisted the bedsheets with a deep growl. It didn't take much effort from Jackson to get him where he wanted him. There was no other barrier between them other than Mark's endless attempts to control everything around himself. 

"Calm down." Jackson lifted his hand, taking his warmth with him, but not for too long, because he cupped Mark's face again, his thumb stroking a gentle line on Mark's cheekbone. "You know me, Mark."

He took a harsh breath, "I know, and that scares me…" Finally, the words were out—at least a part of them. Mark felt the chains easing up around him.

"Why?" 

Nothing about Jackson was regular, normal, ordinary. He was so superior in everything that Mark couldn't stop staring – scared that Jackson would disappear like a dream and leave him alone and locked in his own mind. Over the years, he idolized Jackson to such an extent that he'd persuaded himself that nobody deserved him, not even himself. 

"Remember when we got our soulmate tattoos?" Jackson asked, his eyes made of nothing but sweetness. "You couldn't stop assuring me that you'd be there the whole time, but it didn't hurt me at all. It was you who needed to hold my hand." 

Mark's got lost in Jackson's touch for a while, his whole body giving in to the sensation. Why would Jackson even want someone as ruined as him? He felt Jackson's hand moving south, the softness of his palm running across the stubble on his face. 

"Come on, big man," Jackson's voice was smooth as silk, igniting a fire in Mark's stomach, "I've got you now. You don't have to be scared." 

"Fuck…" Mark stuttered, lowering his head until it met Jackson's shoulder. "Jackson…"

"Spit it out, Mark. Don't keep it bottled up." 

Jackson massaged his nape; his lips pressed to Mark's ear. All of the intimacy over the years was nothing compared to this moment where Mark was growing hard in Jackson's hands. The blooming was visible as his face turned red, his hand on Jackson's abdomen starting to rub circles while the other gripped Jackson's biceps to keep him still. 

"You're driving me insane," Mark mumbled into Jackson's shoulder, his voice husky and desperate. "I'm scared of what I'm capable of doing for you." 

Right when Mark needed reassurance that he wasn't going insane, Jackson had nothing to say. Maybe it was the right time to show Jackson his true colors, scare him away, allow himself to fade away without his sunshine slowly. That's what Mark felt he deserved, anyway, but he couldn't get enough of Jackson's scent, of his softness and voice. The love he emitted gave Mark the strength to continue. If he was about to lose Jackson, then what followed? What was the purpose of him doing anything at all? 

Such was his, a sad existence. 

"I do scary shit for you, Gaga." Mark nuzzled his nose against his neck. "I can't stop myself from doing it." 

"You can stop," Jackson whispered into his ear. "Once I'm yours, and you're mine, there will be nothing to be scared of." 

It could be _this_ easy, _huh_? To just stop being a scaredy-cat and give himself away to Jackson. In the end, he'd hurt Jackson anyway, and who'd punish Mark for that? 

"I know what you're thinking." 

"I doubt it." Mark breathed against his neck. "You'd be insane if you knew."

"If you think I'm not scared of hurting you, then you're wrong. A relationship is a double-edged blade. Whatever you do on one side will always leave a mark on the other. Good or bad, the influence is always irreversible." 

All Mark wished, for now, was to hide in Jackson's arms like many times before. "I'm sorry for being stupid."

"You're not stupid," Jackson scolded him. "We're best friends, and you're scared of losing what we have and destroying our relationship. I get that."

"You're not helping, G."

Jackson sighed, "Mark, these are basic things. All you need to do is to stop thinking negatively. Look at what you're missing out on; all this happiness and love." 

"There you go," Mark kissed the crook of Jackson's neck, "spelling it out for me like it's nothing." He felt Jackson shiver. 

Jackson grabbed his nape firmly. "Tuan," he warned, "kiss me properly or die." 

Mark chewed on his bottom lip as he pulled away from Jackson's grip. He wrapped his fingers around his wrist and brought his hand to his lips. "So aggressive," he smiled. 

"What's wrong with you? First, you're dying on me, and now you're teasing me!" Jackson lifted his leg, but Mark squeezed his thigh and pressed it back down. 

"I said, you unlocked a new level," Mark kissed his knuckles, "my stubborn baby."

Oh, if only the world could see how fast Jackson's face reddened, though Mark wasn't able to tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. 

"Don't push yourself." He closed his eyes, brushing his lips against the back of Jackson's hand. "Get well soon, so you can give me all the happiness and love that you say I miss out on." 

How could he tell Jackson that he had had a damaging conversation with his boyfriend, who helped him open his eyes? How could he say to him that Christian was cheating on him in their own bed and that he only did it out of spite? How could he tell his best friend that he has a bullet hole in his bedroom wall? 

Mark needed Jackson to get well soon for many reasons. 

When Mark snapped back to reality, Jackson was complaining. "Help me out of the pajamas, please." He wiggled his ass against the mattress. "They're embarrassing." 

"Whatever you need, _baby._ " 

Mark unzipped the bag and pulled out some black cotton pajama pants and a shirt. While he was searching for the underwear, Mark could feel Jackson's gaze on him. Mark smiled, grabbing a pair of red undies. He stretched the elastic edge with a giggle and let it go, flinging it across the bed to Jackson, who snatched it up, unamused. 

"Dumbark."

"Hey, throwing high-school nicknames at me, _huh?_ " Mark grabbed the pajamas. "You forget that I hold the future of your naked ass in my hands." 

Jackson sat up. It was a clash of titans, their gazes locked in a battle that Mark knew he'd lose soon if Jackson didn't stop licking the inside of his cheek. That bastard had given him so many graphic ideas about that over the years that it took little for Mark to give in, cracking and scattering across the floor like beads from a broken necklace. 

"Well then, let everyone see my naked ass. Let's prepare people for the manifestation." Jackson threw away his duvet, exposing his whole bottom. Mark averted his eyes quickly. He knew Jackson wouldn't survive in the universal hospital underwear. 

"G! Don't you dare!" Mark tried to avoid looking at the specific area. "You'll hurt yourself!" 

"Yeah? It's you who holds the fate of my ass in your hands, so do something about it!" 

Mark narrowed his eyes at him. He'd started the fight, but Jackson had no reason to call him by the stupid nickname. All Mark did was be a little playful, which Jackson had always liked. So, what was different today? 

"Don't make me manhandle you." Mark yanked the duvet over Jackson's body. "You're a bad patient, Jackson Wang." 

"You're a bad nurse, Mark Tuan." 

Mark stuck out his tongue at him, and Jackson threw his red undies at his head. They both laughed until a nurse walked in with a murderous stare, the blood draining rapidly from their faces. Mark quickly hid the cloth behind his back. 

"I'm sorry," he said, knowing they were too loud. 

"What are you doing here? It's not nine yet!"

"I'm detective Mark Tuan," he reached into his pocket to show his I.D, " and I'm here to get some answers about yesterday's accident that happened in front of the police station. Please, leave…" he put the badge back into his pocket and urged the nurse to leave. 

"Did you get permission for that?" she asked.

"I'll be very quick, please," he smiled. "I am a busy person, you know? I should be out solving big cases, but instead, all I'm doing is asking dumbasses like this one why they've crashed their cars."

"I know how you feel," she nodded. "We nurses do all the work, but doctors are—"

"Yeah, _exactly._ " Mark nodded to everything. "Thank you so much; you're an angel. I promise I'll be quick." 

"But what were you doing with the clothes—" 

"I have no idea how these got there. Thank you very much!" He pushed her out the door and closed it behind him. 

Jackson was muffling his laughter into a pillow. Good to know that at least one of them was having fun. Mark walked back and sat down on the edge of the bed. He observed the empty bag of I.V. fluid. It didn't look like Jackson needed more, but they left the cannula in his arm anyway. Mark smiled at his laughing friend and ruffled his brown hair. 

"It's been a long freaking day." Mark pushed Jackson's hair back.

Jackson looked at him from under his long eyelashes, expecting something Mark couldn't give him yet. "You're so weird, Jackson… one second, I'm scared you'll break me in two, and the next one, you're giving me these looks." 

"It takes one to know one," he murmured. 

_Sad_ , Mark thought as he intertwined his fingers with strands of Jackson's hair. How amazing would it feel just to lay down and bask in Jackson's happiness? Unfortunately, there were still many sins that Mark had to confess to. 

Something in Mark's eyes must have soured Jackson's mood because he averted his eyes and sighed, disappointed. "You won't kiss me, right?" 

"No, Jackson," he leaned closer, "there's something I have to tell you first." 

"Spill." 

Mark hummed, "You sure don't waste time." 

"Spill, so we can kiss already." 

Mark pressed his lips into a thin line, wishing that Jackson would have the same thoughts after being told what had happened. But Jackson will probably get mad, and maybe it'll cost them their friendship and their future, but how do you say that you pointed your gun at your best friend's cheating boyfriend? Where do you even start? 

However, Mark couldn't risk Christian blurting it out to Jackson first, which increased his worries. 

The fear of losing Jackson was back, but this time it was ripping Mark's heart out. He was legitimately scared of losing Jackson after they had made such significant progress. Mark couldn't imagine his life without Jackson, and it hit him at once, like a freight train. Never has he been so close to losing him. The anxiety crept up over his spine and reached for his throat. Better to shut his mouth now than regret it later. 

"Mark," Jackson asked, concerned, propping himself up on his elbow, "what's going on?" 

He's already started. There was no way back. Jackson wouldn't let him live if he didn't tell him the truth now. 

"I should—” Mark pulled away. "Let me help you change, and then I'll tell you, alright? First thing's first." 

Jackson kept his eyes on him as he watched Mark stand up and collect all his clothes. All previous embarrassment was now gone as Mark uncovered Jackson's body and helped him put his underwear on. 

"I regret ever showing you my dick. We could have had a romantic encounter by now!" 

Mark smiled at that. "You didn't exactly show me your dick, it just happened by accident."

"I haven't seen yours," Jackson pouted at that, "and you've already seen mine again." 

"I'm sorry that I've disappointed you, your highness." He stroked Jackson's naked thigh. 

Jackson gulped. "Get over with it, Tuan, quickly." 

"Right, your majesty." Mark did the same with the pajama pants, and when he reached for the shirt, he caught Jackson adjusting his dick in his boxers. "I didn't see that, I swear."

"Dumbass, don't act like you don't do it too."

"My dick's not that huge and problematic." 

"Fuck you." 

Mark grinned. "Take the compliment, don't be a pussy." 

"You would have to mean it as a compliment in the first place."

"You've got a point." Mark helped him sit up. "Let's get you out of this. Does your arm hurt?"

"Like hell." 

Well, after all those years of friendship, Mark shouldn't have expected to hear anything else. Carefully, with Jackson complaining about everything, they managed to get him into the shirt finally. The nurse would be disappointed, he'd say. Jackson held onto Mark's sweater as he was slowly laying him back onto the pillows. 

"I swear, a dislodged shoulder is ten times worse than a fracture." 

"You've never fractured anything in your life," Mark cupped his face lovingly, using a sweet voice. "Don't be a baby. It will settle soon." 

Jackson gave him the biggest puppy eyes he had in his repertoire. Never in his life had Mark ever seen such loving eyes. In moments like these when he could imprint light feelings into his heart, Mark was reminded of his dark past. What on Earth did he do to deserve Jackson? The heavens would forgive him if he were to kiss Jackson now, pull him closer and finally let himself feel like there's more to life for him than murder and crime.

Mark leaned closer, closed his eyes, and kissed Jackson on his forehead. "You are my Jackson." 

The pressure was delightful, Jackson's warmth spreading to him, the smell of the bandage and disinfectant; everything was unique until Mark heard Jackson's breath hitching. 

"Don't send me mixed signals, you asshole, and tell me what's going on." 

With Jackson insisting, Mark found an easy explanation, after all.

"I got into a fight with Christian," Mark confided without moving away. "I went to tell him about what happened to you, and I found him with someone…" 

Jackson closed his eyes, clutching onto Mark's black sweater. "Continue," his voice trembled. 

"G," he said gently, "you know I wouldn't hurt a soul. I promise you that everyone is alright."

"Continue, Mark." 

This was how hearts got broken, and trust was bent until it snapped. Mark felt the weight of his loveless reality settling in. He felt stupid because when you love someone, you don't treat them like your friend. You give them your whole heart, and when they betray you, it hurts like hell. Over the past twenty-four hours, he'd managed to take Jackson apart and put him back together, only to take him apart again. 

"I'm sorry. I did the only thing you asked me not to do." Mark cupped Jackson's cheek. "I used the bullet I'd kept for Christian, and now you have an ex-boyfriend who's cheated on you and a hole in your wall, but everyone is healthy and fine, including his stupid fling." 

Jackson stared at Mark, processing the information and sending a long dark glare at him, who withdrew from respect for their friendship. He bowed his head in regret and clasped his hands together. Why would Jackson kiss him when he was sure to resent him anyway?

"I know you're not joking here…" Jackson said suddenly, his voice deep and stern. "I know you'd never joke about this." 

Mark shook his head dismissively. 

Out of nowhere, Jackson punched Mark's shoulder and tore his sweater by how strongly he'd grabbed it, hauling himself into a sitting position while pulling Mark against his body in the process.

"You've lost your fucking mind!" Jackson hissed, tears prickling his eyes. "I am not asking, Mark! Just fucking—" 

"Jacks, please…" Mark tried to soothe him, but Jackson still managed to deliver a solid punch to his shoulder even with one arm injured, and when he couldn't do more because he'd fall, he bit Mark at the same spot and then yelled at him angrily. 

"Please stop; you'll hurt yourself!" Mark grabbed his hand tightly and tried to push Jackson away, but he kept holding onto Mark as if his life depended on it. "Fuck, Jackson!" Even with one hand, Jackson could do a lot of damage. 

"You idiot! Do you wanna get suspended or jailed? Do you want your life to be ruined just for an idiot who will never... "

Mark gave up and let Jackson grab his shoulder again. "You promised me!" Jackson hissed. "I've only ever asked one thing from you!"

"I'm sorry…"

"What if you hurt someone?! What if someone called the police?!" 

The consequences of his actions finally caught up to Mark. If he'd felt like a piece of shit at the parking lot, now he felt like he didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as Jackson. To go around and wave his gun like a gangster should've been less important than his promise to Jackson. The macho behavior had been nothing but a melodramatic emotional outburst. 

"I can't lose you too! Would you leave me alone here? You selfish son of a—" he couldn't even finish, the tension choking both of them. "You want to protect me from my stupid boyfriends? Then become one and never hurt me!" 

Mark dropped his head on Jackson's shoulder, ignoring the pulsing pain in his biceps. When Jackson didn't stop cursing him, calling him the wildest and softest idiot, too dangerous for his own good and many other weird things that only Jackson could come up with, Mark snapped. He wrapped both of his hands around Jackson's waist and held him tightly as he gently bit his shoulder. 

"I love you." Mark nuzzled his whole face in Jackson's neck. "I love you so much. I mean it. I love you. Forgive me for being an idiot. Please, stop hurting yourself." 

Jackson stilled in his arms, and soon Mark could feel him relaxing. That was all Mark needed right now, the soft and loving Jackson. After a messed-up night, Mark wasn't up to having another fight. He was sorry, and he hoped that Jackson could feel it through his gestures because words were meaningless right now. 

"What did you say?" Jackson asked, visibly taken aback, his voice nothing but gentle and careful. 

"Don't be angry with me." Mark squeezed his waist tightly, feeling the resistance of Jackson's ribs. "I love you. I messed up. I know I did. I told you I'd do crazy shit for you." 

Mark felt Jackson's body go limp against him. The soft curve of his lips pressed against Mark's collarbone. Nothing ever felt as _right as_ holding Jackson in his arms as he deserved. It'd been years, and Mark never actually understood _why_ he should or shouldn't be with Jackson because as much as he wanted to blame fear for everything, it was absurd. He'd truly gotten comfortable on his imaginary line; watching Jackson and loving him from there had been enough for a long period of time, but not anymore. Once Mark had gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit, there was no going back. The feeling of Jackson's warm skin against his lips made him pliant. Deciding on the spot that he'd do anything for Jackson; the number of bullets didn't matter. Hell, he'd destroy cities to protect Jackson. 

"I love you too," Jackson whispered against his neck. "So much." 

"I don't want to see you hurting yourself anymore," Mark kissed his neck, "physically or mentally, for anyone. I swear to god—"

"You," Jackson groaned, "don't swear anymore. I'm not letting you off the hook." 

Mark smiled as he turned his head, his lips brushing against Jackson's ear. "Baby?"

"Hm?"

"I'm ready to kiss you." 

Mark let it happen on its own, let Jackson lead him into anything that was about to happen. Carefully, Mark supported Jackson's upper body to move around safely without using much of his strength. Mark didn't have to remind him of the surgery; Jackson would indeed smack him for that. It took them a few clumsy moves and yelps from Jackson to finally face each other as they deserved. Jackson threw his leg across his thighs, and Mark was a second away from pulling Jackson onto his lap. 

"Is this how you imagined our first kiss?" Mark smiled, stroking Jackson's sides gently. 

"I didn't imagine it," he admitted. "With you, I never imagine things. I want to experience them first." 

Mark leaned their foreheads together and closed his eyes. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You cannot judge yourself, Mark. You will never have the opinion of the third person. Don't be so harsh on yourself." 

"Jacks…"

Mark felt a slight movement, the brushing of their lips before Jackson fully dove in. _Damn._ Mark felt like floating and bursting into tears at the same time. He held his breath, too scared to move like it was his first kiss. When he finally relaxed and took a deep breath through his nose, he grabbed Jackson tightly and pulled him into his lap, opening his mouth for him and moaning like a teen high on testosterone. 

In the end, the universe had one last trick up to its sleeve for them. Mark's mind went blank, but the echo of their fight could still be heard in his blood, in the corner of his thoughts, as he held Jackson in his palms, crying with each drop that escaped from between his fingers. He wished to fall apart, to be destroyed so Jackson could put him back together the right way, just for himself. He wished to be perfect for him – to be a man that he deserved. 

Not many people could understand the feeling of, after ten years of enduring, finally being able to embrace someone most intimately. Press, push, and keep him in place. Feel the friction between bodies, to be allowed to touch the most secret of places. Mark only wished he'd voiced his desperate love sooner, although better later than never. 

They kept kissing, playing with each other, pouring all their love into their breaths, their mouth in perfect sync – proof that they were meant to be together. Jackson curled his fingers behind Mark's nape, holding him close while feeling Mark's fingers press into his sides. 

"Fucking Christ," Mark moaned into the kiss, Jackson's lips smooth and wet like silk, "why I didn't do this sooner?"

" _Cuz,_ you're an idiot." Jackson bit his bottom lip, pushing at Mark's shoulder until he collapsed under Jackson's weight on the mattress. 

"You can literally do anything to me, and I'd thank you." Mark watched him, almost having a religious experience. 

Jackson chuckled at that, leaning closer and—

"Detective Tuan!" The nurse from earlier appeared at the door with fresh bandages in her hands. Her horrified expression had Mark heating up in embarrassment. Why did she have to come in now when he was about to reach nirvana? 

"It's uh… _he… is…_ " Mark stared at her stupidly. "He's demonstrating what happened in the car when he…"

The nurse’s face reddened in anger almost instantly. "Are you an idiot? I swear to god that—"

Jackson burst out laughing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, guys, for reading. See you in the next (last) chapter. Share your thoughts, and ♥♥ with me, please. 
> 
> I have a new BUY ME A COFFEE account. (I forgot the password to my old hehe). If you would like to support me, then [HERE](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/fairyi) I am. if I get only one coin, it would be amazing. I currently can't work, so my money is so little :(


	3. and the beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished it. Guys, I finished it and even added another chapter! 4 chapters for you, guys. It was a nightmare to finish this chapter so i hope you'll give it a lot of love. I beg you don't leave me with only "read." I put my tears and blood into this writing and even wrote you a special Alaska chapter.

Fortunately, Mark hadn’t gotten suspended and didn’t have to see Christian or his ‘bunny’ ever again. Weirdly enough, a mysterious message appeared on his phone after he’d picked Jackson up from the hospital; it couldn’t have been anyone else but Chris telling him that he’d packed his belongings and left a letter for Jackson on the kitchen table. That letter’s content didn’t worry Mark one bit. He was more scared of the hole in the wall that he had to patch up, meaning they’d have to repaint the whole bedroom. Jackson had already talked about repainting his apartment last summer, so Mark _knew_ it would happen soon – but there was no way Mark would let him sleep on the couch while the paint dried. 

“Mark, Mark, Mark—” Jackson squeezed his shoulder as they passed by a coffee shop. 

“G, you can’t have coffee. You’re on heavy painkillers.”

“I want the lemon cake they sell.” 

Mark smiled softly. “Got a craving, huh?” He stopped the car in front of the shop at the last minute and almost hit a wall. “Shit, this car is such a mess.” 

Jackson’s hand clutched Mark’s knee. “Careful, please.”

Mark turned off the engine. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just, this old wreck the service repair gave me doesn’t respond as fast as my chevy.” 

“I know,” Jackson’s voice wavered, “but be careful.” 

“I’m sorry.” Mark leaned in, gently massaging Jackson’s nape. “ _Sorry,_ ” he whispered. 

The wounds were still fresh, the fear still prominent, and Jackson shivering next to Mark brought back unpleasant memories. He had to fight his issues every goddamn minute; his brain couldn’t process the fact that he was the one who should be protecting Jackson. He’d hurt Jackson, saved him, helped him, then made him cry again. It drove Mark insane – he couldn’t stand his own dumb ass. 

“You okay, Jacks?” Mark asked when Jackson wasn’t responding, tightly gripping his seatbelt. 

“I just…” he started, barely audible, “I can’t remember how it happened. I can’t remember…”

Mark unfastened his seatbelt and leaned across the console to get closer to Jackson. He held Jackson as much as he could with the other’s seatbelt between them as he didn’t dare take Jackson’s comfort away. Rubbing soothing circles on Jackson’s inner thigh, Mark kissed his shoulder over the thick hoodie. The touch shouldn’t have left such a bittersweet feeling in his gut, but after years of suppressing his needs and fighting his emotions, the resistance was barely there to contain Mark. 

“That’s normal. Your brain is trying to block out the triggering memory.” 

“I know I just…” Jackson balled up his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie and covered his face, “I don’t wanna be like this.”

“Everything will be alright.” Mark squeezed his thigh gently. “Do you want to stay in the car, or do you want to go with me to get the cake?” 

“Give me a sec,” Jackson murmured into his hands. “Unbuckle me and hug me too.”

Immediately, Mark reached for the buckle and carefully let it slide back. What he would give to be able to block bad memories out of his head; alas, none of these happenings were his own. To experience something and to only see it through the evidence were two different things. He pulled Jackson into his arms, ignoring the stretch in his back muscles from the weird angle. 

“Don’t force yourself. I know it feels uncomfortable, like some pieces of you are missing. But you’ll only hurt yourself.” 

Jackson groaned at that, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “What was I thinking?!”

“It’s my fault.” Mark's leg was cramping up from the weird position, but he endured it for Jackson. “So please, don’t blame yourself.” 

“Mark—”

“I don’t wanna hear you try to comfort me about this, Jackson…” 

“It’s not—”

“Shush!” 

“Don’t shush me!” Jackson uncovered his face. “Don’t you dare!” 

“I’m not gonna let you blame yourself for it, Jackson!” 

“Well, I was the one driving your car!” 

“I was the one behaving like fucking dick that made you lose control!”

“I pushed you into confessing!” Jackson raised his voice, “Dammit, it was always me, pushing and pulling at you!” 

Mark pressed his lips into a thin line. It was absurd to risk a fight in the car, like calling back karma or keeping on going in vicious circles. As if a similar situation hadn’t gotten Jackson into an accident. Mark pulled away and gripped the steering wheel to ground himself. 

“We have a lot of talking to do,” he said gently. “Let’s take it slow and from the beginning.” 

It seemed like Mark’s reasoning voice calmed Jackson down. He rolled his sleeves up and nodded. “I’m sorry that I freaked out.”

“Me too.” Mark let his hands slide down. “Let’s not blame ourselves. The situation we were in, and we still partly are in, is more complicated than it seems.”

“Agreed.”

Mark smiled at that, watching Jackson as he took a breather and uncapped his bottle to take a few sips. When he licked his lips and put the bottle into the door holder to get out of the car, Mark reached out to his shoulder to stop him. 

“Can I have a kiss?” 

He barely finished the sentence when Jackson was already turning around, hands extended to grab Mark’s jacket and pull him into a rough and devastating kiss. When it came to kisses, Mark could do so little to stay in control, but he didn’t even want to as Jackson asked for permission, his tongue slipping between Mark’s lips and tasting him. He was always pliant under Jackson’s hands. 

“You can have everything,” Jackson whispered against his lips. “All of me is yours.” 

Mark’s fingers itched, heat rising in his gut. The center of his attention were Jackson’s eyes, but his hands? _Boy_ , didhis hands have their own mind, and like a separate being, they slid across Jackson’s hips and clutched them tightly. Skin stretched over hip bones, moving under the pressure of his hands. Mark let out a desperate sound before pressing his lips against Jackson’s neck and nibbling at him, playing with his teeth, leaving bruised spots under his ear. 

“Let’s go get the cake,” Jackson breathed out, his voice sweet and decadent. “Mark…”

“Just a sec.” Mark’s hands moved under Jackson’s hoodie. His fingers ran across his abdomen to his navel. The piercing was missing, but Mark didn’t mind at all. 

“Tuan, you’re gonna make me hard…” 

“Good.”

Jackson groaned, “ _Stop it, you_ —” His breath hitched, and his whole body tensed; a shiver ran down his spine when Mark sank his teeth into his neck and sucked a vivid red bruise near Jackson’s Adam's apple.

Satisfied with his work and controlled by his hormones, Mark smiled, caressing Jackson’s cheek with his fingertips. “My Gaga.” 

“Dumb.” Jackson covered the burning place with his palm and quickly opened the car door, the tips of his ears reddening.

“My baby,” Mark got out of the car, giggling, “wait for me.” 

Jackson was already walking to the front door, still holding onto his neck. “ _You_ just wait!” He turned on his heel to give Mark a seductive look, but it took only a second before the shop door was closing behind him. 

They sat in one of the green booths with a small vase of flowers between them. While Jackson was busy messaging someone on his phone, Mark started adjusting the table objects to his liking. Sometimes things required order, which Mark was happy to provide until they were set to his liking, and he felt peace in his mind.

For a while, he took in Jackson's perfect visuals, his fringe covering the patch of stitches on the side of his forehead. When it started taking too long, Mark picked a white flower from the vase and propped up his head on the other hand. How was a stupid phone more interesting than him? Jackson gently bit his lip, then licked it, driving Mark crazy as always. Allured by the perfect art in front of him, Mark’s field of vision was reduced to Jackson’s lips. He brushed Jackson’s lips with the flower petals, eyes focused on his target.

Then someone cleared their throat. 

Mark blinked away the haziness to see Jackson staring at him in surprise, the flower still touching his lips. 

“Can I get your order?” a male voice interrupted them. 

Jackson giggled at Mark, taking the flower away from his hands. “I’ll have the lemon cake and organic green tea and a black coffee for my weird friend, thank you.”

As Jackson spun the flower between his fingers, Mark got distracted again, prompting Jackson to kick his shin under the table. 

Like a fool in love.

When the waiter was gone, and Mark’s leg stopped aching from the kick, Jackson had a lot to say while giggling like a teen. Of course, he wouldn’t let Mark live for a second; he was still the same baby boy with big dick energy. Mark shrugged off his jacket and let it fall behind his back. He rolled the sleeves of his red sweater up and rested his forearms on the table. 

“How are you so cute, Tuan…” Jackson leaned back, “if we ever get married, I want your surname.”

Mark’s whole face lit up in awe. “Well, that was fast.” 

“Then stop being cute.”

“Never.” Mark smiled as he reached for Jackson’s hand. “As long as it makes you happy…” He wrapped his fingers around Jackson’s and squeezed them gently. 

“You know…” Jackson’s eyes zoned in on their hands, “I know we said we needed to talk, but today, I just want to…” 

Mark gave him time, but when Jackson didn’t continue, and his gaze remained still, he leaned across the table and touched Jackson’s forehead as if checking his temperature. And indeed, it was a bit higher than Mark’s. 

“G, do you feel well?” 

Jackson snapped his eyes back to him, confused. “ _Yeah_?” 

“ _Hmm…_ ” Mark let his hand slide across his cheek and neck to the blossoming bruise, “I’ll stay with you today.” 

“That would be great.” Jackson smiled at him. “I’m tired. The hospital bed sucks.” 

“Whatever you need, _baby._ ” 

**

Mark leaned against the door, watching as Jackson walked up to his bedroom wall, where a hole loomed over them like a judge. There wasn’t much to say about that as Jackson sat at the edge of his bed near the headboard and touched the hole with his fingertips. Mark wished he knew what was going on inside his friend’s head; he wanted to draw a line behind their old lives – pack Jackson up and bring him to his apartment. 

“Were you ready to kill for me?” 

When Mark first held a gun in his hand as a police academy student, he thought about the new responsibilities he must keep close to his heart, but he had never thought about endangering someone’s life out of his own misery. Christian didn’t deserve to get shot at, and his fling didn't deserve to get the shit scared out of him either. 

“I don’t have an answer for you.” 

“Would you?” Jackson lowered his hand. 

“All I can say,” Mark’s voice was steady, “is that I _knew_ what I was doing, and _killing_ him wasn’t an option.”

He could see Jackson visibly shiver, his shoulders tense. The word _kill_ was still something unfamiliar to Jackson’s vocabulary, and though Mark was at home there, it’d never be the same for Jackson. It was time to end their suffering. 

“I would never kill anyone,” Mark pulled away from the wall, “though I know your trust in me has weakened after what I did.” 

“It’s scary…” 

After all the promises, Mark did the worst thing he could do; he’d dusted their bond with pain and fear. His worst nightmare had come to life when he saw Jackson shedding tears for him at the hospital. Maybe he should just resign from his detective position and move away.

“I know I hurt you,” Mark crossed his arms over his chest, “but he hurt us both.” 

Jackson buried his head into his palms, silence filling the gloomy atmosphere. Who was he even kidding? Shooting at someone was never a solution. _Oh_ ,did he fuck everything up? 

“What should I do?” Mark asked, anxious. “How can I fix this?” 

Nervously, Jackson put his hands down, refusing to look at Mark. “I don’t know if this is something you can ever fix.” 

Mark was about to say something when Jackson sighed loudly, “I could’ve lost you.”

“Jackson, I was never going to do something that would separate us!”

“Yet you’re a policeman, and shooting at someone without reason is a crime, even for you.”

“It’s nothing that could get me in jail. Suspended, _yes_ ,but not arrested. I wasn’t going to _kill_ him—”

“Just-” Jackson interrupted him, “don’t use that word again.” 

Mark almost snorted at that. He’d owed Jackson _a lot_ over the past years, but now he couldn’t even explain himself because… _because_ of what? Anxiety came over him; sudden realization paralyzed Mark as all he could do was blankly stare at Jackson while his mind unraveled the truth Mark had denied to himself. 

Wasn’t he simply the biggest fool of them all? 

Not now, not after all that had happened in the hospital. Mark had risked his job, not for a relationship with Jackson, but out of his love for him. Even if Jackson would never settle for them, would start to hate him, Mark would be rooted in the same place and would do the same thing again in a heartbeat. It scared him. He hadn’t expected anything from Jackson when he pulled the trigger. All he’d ever wanted was to keep Jackson happy and safe. 

He’d overreacted and crossed the line. 

“I understand,” Mark said after a long pause. “If I hadn’t been such a hothead, you’d still have a chance to fix your relationship with him. You could be happy with him right now and—” 

No matter how firm Mark wanted his voice to sound, how he wished this would come out easily, he felt the weight of each of the words on his shoulder. The conversation in the car, their love confession in the hospital, everything could’ve been different, but Mark had chosen a different path. Now it was too late, _again._

“I’m sorry that I fucked up everything; I know you love Christian.” Mark choked on his words, tears already brimming his eyes. “I know it must hurt.” 

By now, Mark was focusing on his breathing and trying to stop his tears, his throat closing up, his bottom lip trembling. “I wish you would’ve come to me if you’d known about my feelings before you had started dating him. I wish I looked better in your eyes. If you know how I am, why is it still always me who has to explain myself?” 

Mark was in tears, breaking down as Jackson strode over to him and yanked Mark’s hand away from his face. At first, Mark tried to shove him away, but Jackson cupped his face and pinned him against the wall with the force of a kiss that bruised Mark’s lips. Their teeth clashed, a mess of saliva and tongue, but it was still one of the best and most passionate kisses Mark had ever experienced. 

They parted due to lack of oxygen, Jackson pressing his nose to Mark’s cheek and breathing in harshly. “I would die for you.” 

Mark wrapped his arms around Jackson’s middle and held him tightly as he buried his face into his shoulder. “I don’t want that.” He whimpered, “I never wanted that.”

“But you’d do the same,” Jackson whispered. “We do crazy shit for each other, Mark. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and I never will. I’d rather disappear than see you happy with someone else.”

Mark let out an awful cry, crushing Jackson in his arms.

“I’m sorry that I exposed you to my horrible ways. That I made you jealous and hurt you, but I just…” Jackson himself was close to shedding his tears, “I dated people out of habit, not because I felt lonely. As long as I have you, I’ll never feel alone.” 

“It doesn’t make sense.” Mark let his tears soak into Jackson’s hoodie, clawing at Jackson’s back. He felt the shoulder brace against his nails and knew that he shouldn't push too much against Jackson’s injured arm. 

“I don’t make sense at all,” he whispered softly into Mark’s ear. “My life is so random; you are the only anchor I have.”

Mark didn’t reply, letting only his soul cry on and on with Jackson holding him tightly in his arms. No words could express how he felt right now. Most of the time, it was his selfishness eating him alive – thinking about how he should hold himself back from sabotaging Jackson’s relationship. Jackson probably didn’t understand even now what Mark’s reasons were. It wasn’t something Mark could explain or express with his body.

“I’m so sorry,” he said in a small voice, clenching his fist in Jackson’s hoodie. “I want us to be alright again.” 

“We will be.” 

At that moment, Mark wanted to believe that Jackson lived off of rainbows and sunshine. He wanted to believe in hope and second chances. 

“I need to absorb thiswhole _situation_ ; what had happened to us before I crashed your car, and what is happening now.” 

“Are we being weird?” Mark nuzzled his nose in Jackson’s neck. “Sorry, I’m such a mess…”

“If you just wiped your snot into my neck, Mark Tuan…”

It was hardly a threat, more like a reminder that Jackson could still spank the _little rebel_ out of him. Mark snorted into his neck, humming nervously. Maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t; Jackson would never find out. 

“You should get used to my fluids.”

Jackson groaned, “Lame.” 

Here he was, standing in the room where his heart had gotten broken for the last time. After that, there hadn’t been anything left of it to save. Mark recalled the moment when he saw Christian laughing in the bed. The sudden thought of burning down that piece of furniture made him restless. Was it a violent thought, or was it normal to think like that? Mark was frightened, tightening his hold on Jackson, his eyebrows knitted in deep concern. 

“I’m scared, G.” It wasn’t like him to whisper, to use such a _tiny_ voice, to be soft and fragile, but with Jackson, nothing else existed. The world faded away behind him like an unfocused lens. 

“I lost your trust.” 

The strength hidden in Jackson was not to be underestimated. He stood tall even as they both looked washed away, like two ghosts from an old photo. And though Mark knew the dislodged shoulder must’ve hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Jackson, scared that he would lose him.

“You did not!” He replied firmly, “I just don’t know what to say; I still can’t believe you just—” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Jackson stroked his hair. “I know you, Mark, and that’s the problem. I didn’t expect that. After almost fifteen years, you _shocked me…_ ” 

“It’s still me, I promise!” Something in Mark made him pull away, so he could look into Jackson's face to be sure, to read the situation better. “I fucked up and even scared myself.”

When their eyes met, Mark felt a wave of relief pass through him. Nothing in Jackson’s gaze pointed at hatred or shame; there was nothing but love and sadness – the disappointment Mark didn’t want to ignore. If he wanted to redeem himself, he had to admit to his crimes. 

“Do you still love me?” Mark asked, his eyes melting into Jackson’s stare, “Or should I just fuck off?”

Jackson puffed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable, you know?” 

“Just tell me.” 

“I do. I love you.” 

Mark shivered at the gentleness in Jackson’s voice. Perhaps it was the years of pushing his feelings away, bottling them up until they spilled out of him. He had to look like a pathetic idiot right now, but this was Jackson, and he was Mark, and there was no one else that mattered at that moment. Jackson had seen him collapse like a tower and get swept away by the wind like a leaf. But every time it happened, Jackson had been there, by his side, because Mark would never allow them to fight to the extent that he would have to fight for Jackson to come to forgive him. 

If he lost him now, there would be no one to pick him up and put him back together. 

“I can’t lose you, Jackson.” Mark cupped his face. “If you need time, I’ll give it to you. And even if you decide to take a step back and keep our relationship friendly, I’ll be here for you. I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.” 

Jackson closed his eyes for a moment, his face absurdly soft when a tear rolled down his cheek from between his closed eyelids. “I already kissed you…” he fluttered his eyes open, looking away, probably embarrassed by his tears. 

“I want to kiss you more, but you just need to give me some time, Mark. We’ve been waiting for ten years; we can wait a little more.”

Mark kissed him. Just like that, without any warning, without waiting for the right moment. He dove in, letting Jackson taste his tears and chapped lips. “Let’s start over again.” Mark leaned their foreheads together. “When you’re ready, let me take you on a date.”

Now, it sounded _right, j_ ust like something Mark would say on his typical, colorful days. He was proud that he was able to find the old self that Jackson loved so much. The gentle, confident, and sassy Mark that Jackson _knew._

“ _Yeah_ ,” Jackson cupped Mark’s hands with a smile, “I’d like that.” 

**

Mark leaned against the brick fence next to the grocery shop, munching on a cheeseburger when Jaebeom pulled his car up in front of him. Wearing his black coat and sunglasses, though it was cloudy, he looked like a guy from a movie poster. Mark found it funny, watching him with his cheeks full of food. 

“You look like a hamster,” Jaebeom said as he sat down next to Mark. “Why did you want to meet here?” 

“Well, you know I wanted to celebrate my birthday with Jackson, but…”

“Yeah?”

“So, I thought we could do a _welcome home_ party for him; we could link it with my birthday.”

“It’s been almost a week since Jackson was released,” Jaebeom took off his glasses, “but I’m down. What do you want to do?”

“I want him to get out of his head a little.” 

Jaebeom nodded. “And you want me to plan the party at my house?”

“We can’t at mine, you know. We’re fixing his apartment. I mean, it’s not like we’ve already started, but we’re getting ready to. We’re gathering all the stuff to cover up the hole, and he’s spent hours picking a new color for his bedroom. I suggested selling that place and moving in with me, but…” Mark lowered his head, picking at the paper bag. 

“He said _no._ ” Jaebeom snorted, “Don’t push too much. You know Jackson; he loves his independent life.” 

“He stays with me _now_ , so why not stay forever?” 

“You fool!” Laughing, Jaebeom bumped their shoulders together. “Have you seen yourself, you pouty dumbass?”

Mark whined, “It’s like I’m turning into a princess or something.”

“Yeah, with Jackson as your prince? I don’t think that princesses carry guns and shoot holes into walls when their prince’s boyfriend commits adultery.” 

Two days after Jackson’s release, they met up with their group of friends. Jackson was bouncing with happiness the moment he entered the cafe. Besides talking about how idiotic Mark had behaved, they had fun. Mark stayed silent most of the time, letting Jackson freely vent about his emotions. It wasn’t like he was exposing Mark to strangers. Though Jinyoung knew about what had happened, the details made him frown at Mark and pick on him for the rest of the night. Mark almost murdered him in the restroom. 

Well, as long as Jackson was happy, he’d endure anything, even Jinyoung’s nasty ways. 

“You’re gonna roast me for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”

Jaebeom smiled, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Of course.” 

“I’ll move to New York. They say their streets are safer.”

“Good luck with that. Jackson would cry the moment your precious freckles disappeared.”

“Have you ever felt Brooklyn’s sun on your skin?” Mark looked at him, curious. “It’s where the devil goes during the summer holidays.” 

“You’ve only spent six months in New York.”

“Well, that’s enough for my soul to get fried…” Mark paused, intertwining his fingers, “and Jackson likes snow.” 

Jaebeom smiled, “I’m glad that you two made it, that you stepped in when you felt that you were losing him, that you didn’t let him slip away.” 

Mark heard the sadness in his voice, the story behind his words. Perhaps they were both idiots, but in this case, it seemed that Jaebeom was the bigger idiot since he waited too long; Jinyoung was now married and had two kids. 

**

"Alright, I filled the hole.” Mark stepped back, looking proudly at his work on the wall in Jackson’s bedroom. 

Mark did an excellent job for someone who had no idea about masonry; at least he thought so; there were no bumps or cracks left on the wall. The filling was still fresh, so he didn’t dare touch it and risk destroying his hard work. As he read the instructions on the putty container, Jackson was preparing the paint. Since he decided to wear one of his old sweats and a baggy shirt with a hole on the sleeve, Mark had to follow the dress code of a tatterdemalion. He wore old washed-out jeans from his academy days. Jackson pouted at Mark's betrayal- he had the ability to never gaining or losing weight. To make him feel better, Mark patted his ass gently and even squeezed it, calling it a masterpiece.

“Jacks, look!” Mark proudly pointed to the result of his hard work. “I filled the hole,” he chuckled. 

Wordlessly, Jackson dropped the brush onto the cover sheets on the floor. For a second, Mark thought that he was annoyed because he made a dumb innuendo, which at that time didn’t even occur to Mark. But as Jackson gave him _that_ look (on which he could quickly get a trademark), Mark understood. Ten years, as Jackson said, ten years of unreleased sexual tension and hiding behind their masks. No hole or bullet could change what they felt. 

“Come again?” Jackson leaned closer, ignoring the patch on the wall.

“I said, I filled the… _hole._ ”

Jackson licked his lips, his eyes glued on Mark’s mouth. “You filled the hole?”

“Yeah.”

“What about mine?”

Mark lost his breath faster than he could even try to catch it. It was like a whole universe exploded in his head. Every corner of his body was lined with Jackson. In the bedroom without a bed, Mark was about to create their own from plastic covers and their clothes. He was ready to tear open Jackson’s shirt and press his mouth in the middle of his godly pectorals. 

They kept staring at each other. 

“Jackso—”

“When will you fill my hole?”

“Holy fuck,” Mark hissed, “ _baby…_ ” 

When they’d talked about Jackson bottoming, Mark had had no idea that it’d come up in conversation again like this. Suddenly, a strange thought occurred to Mark: what if Jackson had saved his ass for him? The idea of Jackson waiting patiently for his love was so romantic and sweet that the vulgar words from Jackson’s mouth felt slightly poisoned, though compelling. 

Overthinking was Mark’s biggest mood-killer, but it could also save him. When he snapped out of his thoughts, Jackson was still staring at him, his hands reaching for Mark’s sides, and when he pulled Mark close, their lips naturally met in the middle. Mark’s mind went blank, and he pretty much let Jackson take the lead. Jackson’s kisses tasted like the strawberry candies Mark had given him before they’d started working. 

The little approving hums from Jackson drove Mark crazy. Though he was a switch in bed, he was so ready to rip Jackson’s clothes off and fuck him senseless. Although Jackson was the one giving him the sweetest rewards now, his aura dominating. 

Fortunately, Mark didn’t have to worry about losing his mind because Jackson withdrew with a soft pop. Mark’s chest was heaving, and it wasn’t because he couldn’t keep up with Jackson, but because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more: bend over for Jackson or bend Jackson over. 

Jackson smiled sweetly, caressing Mark’s cheeks. “You look like a strawberry- my favorite, tasty strawberry.” Jackson kissed him. “God, you drive me crazy, Mark. You’re so pretty, so good to me.” 

“You’re so whipped for my freckles. I can’t believe you—” Mark chuckled, “such a weak baby.”

“ _Shh…_ ” Jackson bit into Mark’s giggles and quickly hid his face in the crook of Mark’s neck, “don’t say it out loud.”

“You’re still onto that pet name, hm?” Mark kissed his ear. 

“Well,” Jackson turned to look at him, “that’s an interesting topic, actually.”

Mark sucked at his bottom lip, looking away. “We should work.”

“No, really, Tuan, come on!” Jackson held him close to his body. “What’s with you and calling me baby since forever?”

“Well, you still haven’t given me the birthday gift you got me in Montana.” 

It was a dumb way to get away from the embarrassment, but Jackson didn’t give up, so Mark just had to pull out his worst card: _attack of cuteness._ He started drawing circles on Jackson’s chest, smiling like a fifteen-year-old having his first crush.

“Are you serious?” Jackson sighed.

“You see!” Mark smacked his shoulder. “That’s it, you know? You’re just too cute not to be called baby!” 

Jackson gasped, “You called me cute again!”

“Cute!” 

They stared at each other, a war of two pairs of puppy eyes, suddenly both bursting out laughing, Jackson tightening his grip around Mark’s waist, almost lifting him off the ground. Mark bit his neck and sucked at the skin, creating a lovebite in an instant. Jackson’s hold weakened, his body turning into jelly in an instant. 

“You play the big baby here.” Mark licked at his ear. “Wanting me to fill your hole, then grabbing me like you know what to do with me.”

Jackson shivered in his hold. “You’re different,” he murmured, so quiet that Mark almost missed it. 

He smiled gently, petting Jackson’s hair. “I know, Jackson. I’m happy.” 

“We should get back to work…” Jackson nosed at his shoulder, “though I like this better.”

“Me too.” 

**

Mark didn’t like the distance, the semi-cold shoulder from Jackson. The guilt wasn’t about to disappear anytime soon; Mark had never said that he forgot or that he felt less guilty than before, but Jackson’s reactions were strange: for a moment, Jackson looked so carefree, but when Mark appeared – when he remembered he was there, the anxiety came crawling back. 

It’s been a week since they _filled the hole,_ and Jaebeom had finished all the party preparations. But Mark was biting his tongue and watching Jackson’s triggering behavior. He didn’t want to ruin the party for anyone, so he kept denying himself and pushing through the mess. On Saturday evening, Mark picked up Jackson, promising him a fancy dinner. The _date_ joke didn’t work, Jackson gave him an annoyed look. Mark had pledged a date to him, but Jackson was somehow still not having it. 

When they suddenly turned the wrong way, Jackson made Mark laugh by asking if the restaurant's mood was _hunt in the woods or die_.

“I have to stop at Jaebeom’s,” Mark explained. “Come on, G, you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“He visited at the hospital.”

“But that was so long ago!”

“Yeah? Then how am I still wearing the shoulder support?”

“Because it takes ages to heal a dislodged shoulder.” 

Jackson glared at him, but his expression soon turned pouty and offended. In the end, he poked Mark in the thigh. 

“And we’re going inside. I need to pee.”

Jackson sighed, “I can’t believe you. Thirty-years old man not knowing to pee before going somewhere.” 

“What? I just saw you, and it was either that or _that._ ”

After that perverted remark, Jackson snorted, “nothing about you has actually changed.”

“Is that good or bad?” 

Mark kept turning his head at Jackson, asking, poking, demanding. But there was no answer, with Jackson resembling an unresponsive stone. So much for Jackson saying that Mark is his anchor. If he couldn’t lean on Mark’s shoulder to move past these stupid jokes, then what was this about? The wall Jackson built to protect himself while being vulnerable shouldn’t be standing between them.

“Jackie Jack…” Mark shifted the gear with a sigh, “normally I'd give you hell for ignoring me, but I know better now.”

“Do you?” responding nonchalantly, Jackson put his hand out the open window.“Because I thought a lot about our romantic relationship.”

“I got that.” His voice dropped in reassurance, “You need a lover, not a best friend.” 

“It’s more complicated than that.” 

Mark wished the road were longer, so they could talk and finally clean their wounds. Suddenly, he wanted to call Jaebeom and cancel the party for their own sake. Mark tensed visibly, watching the road ahead with frustration. 

“We have the whole evening to talk,” Jackson smiled. 

“Yeah, that—” a ringtone disturbed their talk, “that’s my phone. G, is that Jaebeom?”

Jackson grabbed the phone that was casually thrown on the dashboard. “Yeah, should I pick—”

“No, _no._ Don’t pick it up, baby. Give me the phone.”

This time Jackson gave him a furious look. “You’re not going to talk while driving! Watch the road, Mark!” 

“Then dismiss the call.” 

“Why?” Jackson held his thumb over the green button. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“Yes, I actually am. Now, put the phone down and trust me.”

“ _Ooooh._ ”

Mark felt his temper rising quickly. “You didn’t just give me the most suspicious _oh_ ever, Jacks.”

“I think I just did, Mark.”

Irritated, Mark pulled the car over, leaving the red lights on. He unbuckled this belt and boldly crossed over the central console. The bewildered look Jackson gave him only fueled Mark’s decision to finally get over that wall between them and corner Jackson about what was happening in his head. If he was developing trust issues, Mark should know about it, especially if he was the cause. 

And just like that, Mark found himself straddling Jackson and cupping his face with a determined look. When he felt two cold hands on his sides, Mark finally released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. It had been ten years of pushing and pulling, ten years of denying himself happiness. He was fed up with their mind games and hurt feelings. 

“I'm asking you once again.” Mark brushed his thumbs over Jackson’s cheekbones. “Do you fully trust me, Jackson Wang?”

“I told you, I would die for—”

“No!” Mark hissed, “I don’t want to hear these things. Tell me what is happening inside of you when you suddenly can’t look at me, when you distance yourself. What do you feel?”

“I don’t—”

“Jackson! Don’t lie to me!” 

Seeing Jackson vulnerable while trying to get through to him wasn’t anything Mark was proud of, but he was also only a man with limited patience. He couldn’t watch Jackson ruin himself because of Mark’s ruthless behavior. It hurt so badly to watch and not be able to do anything; the desperation turned Mark into a ticking time bomb, into a man who breathed in oxygen to inhale a fire. 

“I don’t know what you want to hear. And this is…”

Mark was silent, hungrily swallowing Jackson’s words until there was silence. Mark felt a strange itching in his body that was impossibly pulling him closer to Jackson. Why on Earth couldn’t they be as happy as any other couple? They deserved it; Jackson deserved all the love, and Mark had _a lot_ of that to give. But now, Mark was on the verge of collapsing into himself like a star. His mistakes were haunting him every step of the way, pulling him and Jackson apart, and he, like a fool, was following instead of fixing the mess he made. 

“Jackson,” his voice trembled, “I love you so much. I can’t ever express what you mean to me. I’m so crazy in love with you.” 

Jackson bowed his head, Mark’s hand shifting on his neck. He cradled Jackson in his arms. “If you think I've gone insane, then _yeah_ ,maybe you’re right, and you deserve better than this reckless man.”

“Why do you talk like that?” Jackson wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist and gripped him so firmly that Mark felt his breath hitching, and _god_ ,did it feel fucking _fantastic_. 

“Because I feel like I messed up so much that you tolerate me only out of respect for our friendship.” 

“That’s not true.” 

Mark swallowed hard. “Talk to me, _please_.” 

“Mark, this is not quite the right time…” he answered when Mark’s phone went off again.

“No, I don’t fucking care who's calling.” 

“I don’t wanna do this now.”

“When then?” Mark pushed again.

“I told you I need time!” 

“For what? To let me watch you fall apart?” 

Jackson heaved, tightening his hold on Mark as if he were holding onto his last lifeline before drowning in the deep dark ocean. This gesture was enough for Mark to know that Jackson was scared to talk for one concrete reason that he couldn’t quite reach. 

“What's changed between us? Why can’t you talk to me like you usually do?” 

“I don’t know what's going on.” 

“Then help me understand. Whatever's on your mind, speak up about it. You _know me_ ,baby. You know me. I’m your Mark. It’s me, Your dumb Yi En.”

“Mine…” 

Mark moved, burying his nose in Jackson’s hair, showering it with kisses. “Jackson, you drive me crazy. I want to help you, please let me help you. What do you want from me, that I beg on my knees? 

Anything would be better for Mark than walking on glass, scared to trigger Jackson just by breathing. If Jackson wanted to slap him for what he did, then so be it; if he wanted to yell and throw tantrums and send him off, that was fine as well if Jackson was alright with that.

“You want me on knees? I will! Just let me—" Mark reached for the door with fumbling fingers, ready to get out of the car, when Jackson fisted his jacket and pulled him back.

When did their roles change for Jackson to become the silent one? Mark would conquer nations for those doe eyes, go right down to hell for him. 

“I know I hurt you, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“Mark, I swear, I'm fine…”

“Yesterday? You walked past me without sparing me a glance, and then when I asked you – when I called your name, you jerked away like I was some stranger in your house. And it wasn't the first time. It’s been happening since you get back from the hospital.”

Jackson sighed, leaning back against the headrest. Finally, at least _some_ kind of emotion that confirmed Mark’s concerns. He felt more at ease now that Jackson finally admitted that something was wrong. 

“Is it me?” Mark asked. 

“You did what you did, Mark…” 

“It scared you.”

Jackson nodded.

“Am I scaring you now?” 

“No…” Jackson cleared his throat, “ _no._ ”

“Would it be enough if I got punished for what I did?”

“What do you mean?” His eyes widened. 

“Should I give myself away? Would that make it easier for you to put up with my bullshit?” 

“Mark, I don’t want you to lose your job.” 

Mark took a deep breath. “Then how can I help you? What should I do?”

“I told you,” Jackson said softly, rubbing Mark’s thighs. “I need time.” 

“Do you need time for yourself? Should I go away?”

Jackson didn’t reply at first, swallowing then sighing. “I just want my life back.”

Mark’s heart dropped to the ground. He went limp, unresponsive, guilt eating him inside out. All he wanted now was to get out of the car and run away, to leave Jackson alone, to give him the peace he had before Mark went insane and messed up his life.

“I ruined your life.”

“Mark, no—”

“I’m so sorry that you can’t trust me anymore.” 

“No—”

“We're just going in circles; I'm not helping you at all. I've ruined so many beautiful things for you.”

“Mark, goddammit!” Jackson shouted. “Can you stop pitying yourself like this?”

Mark lowered his head, trying to switch his attention to anything else, not to feel embarrassed and useless, but the fact that he was sitting in Jackson’s lap for the first time in his life wasn’t a good distraction. 

“I’m not mad at you, but at what happened to us. I’m angry at how stupidly things worked out for us. If I weren’t so blind and self-centered, so mad and so clingy if you weren’t so pissed off at me if Christian wasn’t a cheating pig – so many things happened, Mark. It’s not only that you drilled a hole into my bedroom wall. That sucks, but it’s not entirely your fault. I drove you mad. You were unstable that night, and I get it.” 

And so, it was out—piece by piece, like a raindrop that created a storm. Mark could finally give in, resting his head on Jackson’s shoulder. 

“I want to play the violin again. I want to make love to you and… _I guess_ I fucked up so many things, M, that I keep zoning out while thinking about it.” 

Mark’s phone went off again, Mark realizing that they were already late. Jaebeom had to be worried about them. The last thing he wanted now was a mad Jaebeom wringing on their necks the moment they crossed his threshold. 

He quickly reached back for his phone and typed out a short message. 

“Mark?” Jackson stroked his thighs. “Are you angry with me now? After what I said?”

“Of course not. You have the right to be angry, but I know I added to your trigger by saying what I did. I’m so sorry I didn’t wait until you got well. I was scared Christian would get there before me. I’m an idiot, and now you have so many things to deal with because of me…” 

“That…” tiredly, Jackson tilted his head back, blinking at the roof, “I understand your past concerns. I truly do, Mark.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I never meant to—”

“I know,” Jackson smiled, “but I still can’t remember.”

“Maybe,” Mark cupped his face, “you should consider talking to a therapist. I know a good one.” 

“Maybe…” 

It felt comfortable to talk after the suffocating atmosphere. It still felt a bit wrong to Mark that he pushed Jackson into snapping at him, but they could finally breathe freely. Nothing that had happened before was defining them now, only that the happenings were intertwining with their lives. Mark knew they were better than their deeds – mistakes. 

“Thank you for opening up to me, G.” 

“Thank you for being here for me.” 

**

Jackson made fun of Mark needing to pee the whole way to the house. He even poked his stomach and pressed a palm against it, and Mark let him, waiting for the chance to tell Jackson that they won’t go anywhere because he peed himself, but then Jaebeom opened the door for them. Jackson greeted him with a bright smile, grabbing Mark by his hands and lead him inside. _‘My dude over here needs to pee.’_ Typical of Jackson to shout unnecessary things. 

He was dragging Mark to the bathroom when suddenly everyone came out of their hiding and loudly screamed _‘surprise.’_ Jackson jerked back in shock, almost colliding with Mark as he wanted to turn and run away from all the murderers hiding in Jaebeom’s house. 

“Who peed his pants now, huh?” Mark teased him, earning himself a slap on the chest. 

“What's going on here?” Jackson smiled when Jaebeom got the cake from the kitchen. “Is this your secret, Mark?”

“You’ll see.” Mark kissed Jackson’s cheek. 

“So, I guess…” When Jaebeom was back, everyone started to sing strange lyrics; the melody belonged to the usual ‘ _happy birthday’_ song, but the text was different, and when Jackson looked at the cake, he gasped. 

One half of the cake had, written in small letters, _happy birthday Mark,_ and on the second half was Jackson’s name together with _happy reborn Jackson._

“You idiots,” Jackson sniffled when he finally understood what was happening. 

Mark put his hand on Jackson’s side, resting his chin on his shoulder with a smile. “Happy birthday to us, _I guess._ ”

“Congratulation on not dying.” Jaebeom waited for Jackson to blow out the candles. “Put out Mark’s too. I don’t think he’s going to unglue from you anytime soon.”

“You smart-ass, I can blow the candles from here. My lungs are champs.”

“Course, you can blow them.” 

Jackson giggled at Jinyoung’s remark. All their friends were there, and the happiness washed off the sadness and anger from the car. It felt amazing to hold Jackson in front of the whole world finally. After years of awkwardly standing next to each other, with Mark trying not to cross the line he had drawn, today, with so many eyes on them, holding each other felt like heaven. 

“Now stop being inappropriate, and let’s eat the cake.” Jinyoung stood up with a knife.

“Jaebeom, did you give him that huge ass knife?”

“Better – bigger,” the detective laughed at Jackson’s expression. “You stop fearing big things. You’re a big boy.”

“Hate you.” Jackson retorted. 

“You fear big things, G?”

“You don’t have to worry about it, Mark.”

A scandalous group _‘ooow’_ echoed in the room. “Burn. Mark, do you need some water? Should we call 911?”

“Has your house ever been on fire, Jaebeom?”

“It might be from your burns.”

“Shut up!” Mark whined, annoyed. 

They always bickered like this, getting on each other nerves because they _could_ ; because this was their dynamic. But when it came down to it, it was Jaebeom sitting on the curb in the rain with Mark; it was Jaebeom listening to Mark’s drunken blabbering about Jackson. 

Just like right now when it was Jaebeom who'd organized the party. 

“Come and cut the cake with me.” Jackson grabbed Mark’s shoulder and led them to the table. “You put the knife down, Jinyoung. Slow, like a good boy.”

“How are you still alive after calling Jinyoung a good boy?” BamBam asked, scandalized. 

“Cute boys’ privilege,” Jinyoung answered, making Jackson slap his shoulder. 

“Don’t! I'm holding a knife!” 

After everyone had gotten their fair share of the cake, Mark decided to wrap it up with the alcohol for the night after the first round of shots. He sipped from his soda while talking to BamBam about his travels, then received a crushing hug from Yugyeom, who scolded him for not being around enough. He spent a good portion of time chatting with Youngjae, who snuggled up against him and poured his heart out because there was a chance for him to get back together with his ex-boyfriend again.

Mark felt relaxed, needed, and in the best company he could have ever wished for. When he searched for Jackson in the dim rooms, Jaebeom was already too drunk to be cohesive.

“So, are you two officially together?” Jaebeom asked, trying to get one of his cats' attention (useless, since animals disliked alcohol). 

“We’re getting there.” 

“You know, Mark…” Jaebeom sighed, “I've been calling you an idiot all this time. I’m glad I was wrong.” 

Mark smiled, “I got _uh,_ a kinda extreme revelation, though.” 

“Jackson is amazing. You should keep him forever.”

“I will.” 

After a few seconds, when Mark thought that Jaebeom had already drifted away, there was a sudden whimper, freaking Mark out. He looked around to see if he could spot Jinyoung, but he was probably with Jackson right now.

“Hey,” Mark wrapped his arm around Jaebeom’s shoulders, “I know it’s not easy to hear, but…” 

“If you tell me it takes time, I’ll smack you.”

Mark sighed, “I know you know.” 

“Then what?”

“Then? I wanted to tell you that you should tell Jinyoung so you could find peace again. If he knows, then you can stop hiding away like a stray cat.” 

Jaebeom wiped his face in the sleeves of his hoodie. “He’s married with two kids.”

“Exactly.” 

There was only a silent hum before Jaebeom’s head sunk onto Mark’s shoulder, and then he finally drifted off. It was a sign that they should wrap it up. Being a good friend, Mark comfortably laid Jaebeom down on the couch. Knowing that Jaebeom probably wouldn’t remember anything tomorrow, Mark sighed and went to search for Jackson. On his way to the garden, Mark met Jinyoung and asked him to look after Jaebeom, who dozed off.

Jackson sat on the porch with an empty teacup next to himself.

“Here’s my soon to be boyfriend.” Mark dropped next to him with a smile. 

“Was that a confession, Mark?”

“Maybe,” he smirked. 

Relieved that he finally found Jackson, Mark snuggled closer and under Jackson’s arm to lean against him with the signature smile that Jackson loved so much. He found a comfortable position and closed his eyes, feeling Jackson’s chest rising against his cheek. 

“You have to admit, baby, that we’re perfect together.” 

“I admit.” Jackson tightened his hold around Mark’s shoulder. “Are you tired?”

“No, just carefree.” 

“Good.” 

The night was getting cold, and the wind was getting stronger through the trees, but Mark didn’t want to move. The rustling of leaves, Jackson’s warmth, the comfortable darkness around them – everything felt like a perfect combination for this moment. 

“You know,” Jackson leaned his cheek on the top of Mark’s head, “how you said that we have a lot of talking to do…” 

“Yeah?”

“And you said that you would like to take me to Alaska.” 

Mark hummed, connecting the dots as he smiled. “You want me to take you on a bonding trip?”

“Yeah, it would be amazing.”

“I’ll see,” Mark’s hand slipped between Jackson’s legs, his thumb caressing the inner thigh, “and I’ll let you know. But not before your shoulder is fully healed.”

Jackson groaned, “that's gonna take ages!”

“I told you!” 

They laughed, slowly falling into a comfortable silence. Mark felt it in his bones that right now, after this step forward, everything would be alright again. Though it scared him to move away from his imaginary line, he started to outgrow these best-friendly shoes. For too long, Mark had walked barefoot around and hurt himself. 

“It’s kinda scary, don’t you think?” Mark asked, “To raise our status.” 

“Mark, you’re not at work to talk so formally.”

Mark snorted, “Sorry.” 

“It’s not scary. It’s just that we messed up a lot to get here. Unnecessary drama. But I guess that’s us _._ ”

Them being so similar only fueled their decisions. While they both were loud, Mark was often so only in his head, while Jackson wasn't afraid to throw things around and show people how he felt.

“I can’t wait for the Alaska sun to bring out your freckles,” Jackson said suddenly and reached for Mark’s wrist, where Jackson had fastened the birthday bracelet this morning. 

“You only like me because of my freckles,” Mark pouted.

“You only like me because…” Jackson tried to find a similar argument but didn’t find any, “why do you like me?”

“Because you’re the most lovable and caring person I have ever met.” 

That was quick, and Mark was proud of himself. Less words often said more than poetic declarations of love, but knowing himself as the biggest sap ever, he was sure that he'd shower Jackson with billions of compliments and gifts and make him thousands of romantic dinners and sprinkle their bed with rose petals and even buy the expensive strawberry lube for them. 

“You always take care of me, G…” Mark picked himself up, using Jackson’s thigh as a support, making Jackson groan in pleasure. It wasn’t a secret between them anymore that Jackson had his sensitive places. “Can I have a kiss?”

Jackson smiled, “Why do you always ask?”

“Because,” he dropped his gaze to Jackson’s lips, “we’re still not official.” 

“Do you want to be?”

Without hesitation, gasping for breath, Mark nodded, “Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you ask then?”

“Because you weren't ready,” he answered gently. “I will not pressure you into anything.”

Jackson leaned in and pressed his lips against Mark’s temple. “Things changed today. We can be boyfriends without us crossing lines I am not ready to cross yet.”

“You trust me that much?”

Jackson nosed at his cheek, “I love you, En.” 

Why on earth did he feel a sudden tickling inside himself? The feeling he hadn’t been able to get through his system for years was now blooming in him. They were getting sappy, but Mark didn’t mind a bit. However, this led to dirty thoughts about holes and sizes. Somehow, he connected the weird quotes from the last week with a reminder of what he’s wanted for a while now.

“Are we getting cheesy?” Jackson nuzzled his whole face into Mark’s neck. “Soon, we’ll fall from the stairs.” He laughed at their weirdly tangled position.

“Yeah,” Mark hummed as he wrapped his arms around Jackson’s middle, “I kinda want to sit on your lap again.”

An amused hum left Jackson’s mouth, “I kinda want to sit on yours.”

“Should we go home?”

“Can you drive?”

“Yeah, I only had one shot when we arrived here. I’m fine.” 

Jackson nodded, kissing Mark’s soft hair. “Don’t forget to pee before we go.” 

“Kiss me first?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, leave comments & ♥♥ and see you in the next chapter.


	4. presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read this as a BONUS CHAPTER. It's written from Jackson's point of view. Have you noticed how only a few of the markson stories are actually written from Jackson's pov? 🤔
> 
> This is the real end, my friends. No, I don't have more chapters hidden in my pocket. Sorry, this is the real end. Not like I said it's the end two chapters before haha. 
> 
> This time it's real.

Mark ran into the rented house, laughing like the dumbass Jackson loved so much. He'd fight the world for Mark just to be able to keep listening to his giggles. Though Jackson had tried getting over the lovesickness, it'd been ten years, and he would still never get enough of Mark’s demeanor. It was crazy that he was still so in love with his boyfriend after all this time. No matter what, Mark was his everything, and Jackson wasn’t afraid to show it. 

When they both slipped out of their winter shoes and shrugged off their coats, beanies, and scarves, Mark cupped Jackson’s cold cheeks and kissed his purplish lips. They'd played in the snow like two kids, had a snowball fight, and left angel prints behind. Mark’s smile was the brightest Jackson had seen it be in years, and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“I love you so much, Mark…” he pushed through Mark’s hold and pressed their lips together, “you’re finally mine.” 

“I always have been.” They kept kissing as Mark warmed up Jackson’s cheeks.

In winter, Alaska was colder than usual, which made sense, but for Mark, who'd spent his whole life on sunny beaches and only occasionally went snowboarding in California's resorts, it was too much to handle. Three days passed since they'd arrived. Mark had surprised Jackson with a cozy rented house near the woods; they had the privacy and tranquility they needed so much.

“Let me prepare a bath for us,” Mark whispered into the kiss.

Jackson felt possessed like someone came and ripped his doubts and fears into pieces and left only love and a sweet, sweet sensation of blooming flowers in his stomach every time Mark appeared. 

“Warm me up…” Jackson cocked his head to nibble at Mark’s ear, “so you can play with me.”

“Fuck, Jacks…”

“Mark,” he licked at his boyfriend’s ear, “we spent three days talking and assuring each other. I’ve been on pins and needles for months now, and tomorrow's Christmas. Let’s work miracles, birdy.” And just like that, Jackson ran his hands through Mark’s messy hair, the soft strands like silk between his fingers. 

“Are you sure?”

Jackson smiled, sliding his hands over Mark’s neck and nuzzling his nose there. “ _Yeah_ , I want you.” 

“Let’s take a bath first,” Mark said gently, his hands resting comfortably on Jackson’s waist. “I’m gonna make you feel so _good_ ,baby.”

“I can’t wait.” 

After running the bath, Jackson asked Mark to get in so he wouldn’t have to see his private parts. He insisted on looking at the _real_ _thing_ after their first time together, which was romantic as hell for Mark, but he'd never say that. Jackson knew because no matter how much his lover tried to hide things, his eyes always showed his true emotions. Mark added foam into the water, sitting and hiding his groin like a chaste boy. 

Wearing only his bathrobe, Jackson peeked into the specious bathroom after hearing Mark call his name. Stepping inside, he untied his robe with a smirk, letting it fall to the floor. The look Mark gave him and how it continued down to his groin was priceless. Jackson put his hands on his hips, letting himself be admired.

“Jacks, we should get another tattoo together.” Well, after the look Mark had given him, Jackson hadn't expected him to say _that_. 

“You already have three tattoos.”

“But I want another one with you.” Mark extended his hand and waited for him to come closer. 

And _oh boy_ ,when Mark’s slender, warm fingers touched Jackson’s cold hip bone, it felt like fireworks. He brushed his skin, pressing his digits into the firm muscle. Finally, Mark grabbed his hip and pulled him even closer. Jackson gulped when he found his dick level to Mark’s face. It wasn’t the right time to get excited, but you couldn't blame him after _years_ of _nothing_ from Mark’s side. 

“We should get one here…” Mark leaned closer, sealing the distance with his lips. Jackson’s whole body got warmer; he felt the sting in his fingers and toes, his cheeks getting red and hot, but most importantly, he was getting hard. 

“You’d be so sexy with a tattoo here…” He planted more kisses over the soft abdominal, getting closer and _closer_ to Jackson’s cock. 

Jackson inhaled harshly through gritted teeth, his body tensing like a string about to snap. The temperature inversion was making him feel things he'd never felt before. With Mark, everything was new for him. It took so little for Mark to turn his sexual life upside-down, and though it was always better to have no expectations, Jackson couldn’t help himself right now. He'd fought his senses, always pushing the fantasies away so he could get the first-hand experience directly from Mark. Now, he forgot all of that as his mind was overworked, and blood was rushing south, making his dick the central source of his decisions.

“Mark…” He breathed out, “ _Mark, Mark, Mark…_ ” 

The latter looked up, his eyes innocent. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Let me in the bath, or I swear…” 

“You swear what?” Mark chuckled with fire in his eyes. “Tell me, don’t be a baby now.”

Having known each other for years, Jackson wasn’t surprised by Mark being a tease in bed. But it was too much for him to handle when Mark was all he'd ever wanted to have; when Mark’s dick was the only one Jackson wanted to feel inside. 

“I’ll answer when I'm neck-deep in the water, with my dick safe from your vicious ways.”

Mark laughed, withdrawing and leaning against the ceramic of the tub. “Hop in, baby.”

“I hate you so much right now.” Jackson shook his head, but the moment he got into the warm water, a smile spread across his face. He sank deeper and stretched his legs around Mark, who sat there curled up like a bean, trying to keep his crotch out of visual reach.

“You know people got whipped for lying.” Mark scooped up a handful of foam. “You'd better take it back, or hell's gate will open and swallow you whole.”

“Yeah? I only let _you_ swallow me.” Jackson gave him an awful smirk, and Mark almost barked at him.

“Your fuckboy aura is so disgusting.”

Jackson poked him with his leg, a warm smile pushing up his eyes. “At least I have one.”

“You say it like it’s a good thing,” Mark huffed.

“Girls secretly like it.”

“In which universe? I have two sisters, Jacks, and if a fuckboy ever played with them, I'd roll up my sleeves and have a go at them.” Mark leaned back against the bathtub, demonstrating his power by flexing his arms on the sides. 

“Would you do that for me too? If a fuckboy flirted with me?”

Mark snorted, “They wouldn’t stand a chance. You’re way out of their league, baby.”

“ _Aw_ ,Markie is complimenting me a lot today,” Jackson squealed dramatically. “Does it mean he wants something from me tonight?”

The look Mark gave him turned Jackson on so much he had to withdraw his legs and press his thighs together to save his dick. Mark’s dark, luscious eyes were always so difficult to resist. 

If you asked Jackson how he was able to keep his distance for years, he'd say he did it out of respect, but by now, the concern for their friendship had already faded away. Jackson was ready to cross the line. His senses worked only for Mark – there was nothing else in the universe but Mark and his sexy body, and no matter how lame the statement sounded, it was the plain truth.

Jackson’s desire was sky-rocking – no number of seatbelts could hold him down. 

“Mark…” he almost whispered, “come closer so I can count your freckles.” 

It was a make-out invitation Mark would never reject. Jackson watched the smile on Mark’s face stretch wider and turn into a mischievous grin. He looked so sexy, so tempting, and Jackson’s dick was already so hard, the warm water not helping at all. 

“You don’t mind feeling my dick?” Mark pulled himself up, the water and foam dripping down his body. 

“I _want_ tofeel your dick.” 

Carefully, Mark got on his knees, the foam luckily still covering his dick. The water made Mark’s body look like art, his abs so defined, his nipples hard and prettily pink. Jackson was ready to get ravished tonight. 

The moment Mark was within reach, Jackson pulled him between his legs by his waist. He felt the gentle brush of their dicks, provoking a low moan from his mouth. With no delay, Mark dove in, capturing Jackson's mouth in a breathtaking kiss. 

There was no use resisting anymore. When Mark’s lips slipped away and brushed over Jackson’s chin, Jackson knew that it was going to happen that night. He wanted to get fucked by Mark _so much_ that it physically hurt. 

“I want you so much. _I want you. I want you..._ “ Jackson tilted his head as he closed his eyes, letting the excitement penetrate his skin and sink into his veins. 

Mark’s lips worked wonders on his sensitive skin. When he reached Jackson’s nipples, when his hand pressed against the flat of Jackson’s stomach, everything seemed to light up.

“Yeah?” Mark sunk his hand under the water, wrapping his fingers around Jackson’s dick. “What do you want from me, baby?”

“Anything you can think of.” 

“It's gonna be a long night.”

“I don’t _fucking_ care.” 

Mark grinned as he swirled his tongue around a nipple. “Let me wash you first. Your pretty hair too.” 

They met at the airport three days after having last seen each other because Mark had to finish important work. He literally slept at the police station, having no time for Jackson until the trip. Jackson had understood that some things couldn’t be pushed before other things, and everything has its order in Mark’s life. But their minimalistic conversations had one benefit; the surprise on Mark’s face when Jackson greeted him with a loving smile and rose-gold hair was priceless. 

Mark already grabbed the sponge and body wash. The adorable smile on his face left Jackson perplexed. This man, who was jerking him off just moments ago, was now smiling like a fool and washing Jackson’s body. It didn’t take long until Mark instructed Jackson to stand up so he could reach every part of his _gorgeous_ body. Jackson did as he was asked – got on his feet with his dick painfully hard. 

“You’re a freaking sadist,” Jackson stated as Mark cleaned him everywhere, including his dick. 

“I’m considerate, _baby._ ” 

“Of course! Playing with my dick and nipples and having your dirty-minded games and then leaving my most precious parts out of it is—” Jackson gasped, unable to finish his sentence. It took barely a second for Mark to lean in and swallow around the tip of his cock. 

“You-you're not, sucking me while I stand. I can’t – I _cannot…_ ” Jackson felt his knees giving out. The warmth, the visual stimulation, it was all too much. 

Mark let go with a wet pop and looked up. “Am I still a sadist?”

Jackson whimpered at the words, “You’re driving me insane.” 

“Come back down, baby, and let me wash your hair. Then I’ll take you to bed.” 

How was Mark even real? Jackson’s dick threatened to explode at any moment. “I’ll pay you in diamonds if you put your mouth back where it was.”

Mark laughed in his adorable - dumb style and started maneuvering Jackson back into the water. “Here, _here,_ my pouty little baby. Seriously, let’s finish this so I can take you to bed.” 

It was useless arguing with Mark in this state, he'd get his way no matter what, and Jackson would probably come just from a little teasing – because why not look like a desperate virgin while you're at it. He was irritated and getting grumpy as Mark was wetting his hair from behind. At least like this, Jackson could lean against his chest. 

“Now who looks like a strawberry, _hm_?” He kissed the top of Jackson’s head before applying the shampoo. 

“Mark, tell me, honestly,” he bit his bottom lip, “are you hard?”

He could imagine Mark smirking from back there when he said, “ _You'll have to find out_.” 

Every touch, kiss, and brush of fingers stimulated Jackson even more. When Mark finished washing his hair, Jackson tried controlling himself enough to return the favor. It felt domestic and warm. At least Mark didn’t tease him as Jackson was getting his bathrobe. Still soaking in the bath, Mark waited for Jackson’s verdict. 

“You'd better get out naked. I’ll wait…” Jackson smirked, eyeing his boyfriend before leaving the bathroom.

When Jackson entered the bedroom, he headed towards the nightstand, where he'd put his jewelry box the first night they'd unpacked. He picked out his new titanium piercing and carefully put it on. The moment they learned that titanium could be colored, Mark had ended all his complaints. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed and still covered, Jackson was getting nervous, scenes of hot lovemaking appearing in front of his eyes, but he pushed them away. He was furious, so outraged,and ready to get disrobed and be fucked into the mattress. Jackson knew how it was _done,_ how hot it was to pound into someone without restraint. 

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, Mark Tuan…” 

The door opened, and in all his naked glory, Mark walked in, drying his hair with a towel. Naturally, Jackson’s eyes followed the sinful lines of Mark’s body as he approached him.

Mark was shaved. His dick was slightly curved to the left, but for Jackson, it was hot as hell because he imagined how well it'd work while he played with it in his mouth. How could Mark still walk with such packed balls? Jackson salivated, but before he could say anything, Mark was by his side, tossing the towel carelessly onto the nightstand and ruffling his wet hair.

“No condoms?” He pointed at the lube resting on the pillow. 

Jackson shook his head, the results of their tests still vivid in his memory. 

“Okay,” he said softly. 

As if hearing Jackson’s inner struggles, Mark bent over and kissed him. “Less talking, more lovemaking.” He straddled Jackson, devouring his lips like a starved animal. 

The flow between them was so natural that Jackson was getting lost between transitions. Mark was gentle and sure with every step, holding Jackson and kissing each part of his body. He untied the bathrobe, rolling it down from Jackson’s shoulder to bite and kiss them – to sprinkle them with love bites and pure love. 

At this point, Jackson thought he'd come from just the foreplay. 

“Lay down for me,” Mark whispered as he got up. 

Jackson tossed his robe away and shifted higher between the pillows he adjusted for himself. When he found a comfortable position, he opened his legs like an invitation and hooked his arms behind his head. 

“Cute.” Mark grabbed the lube from under a pillow. 

It was still unreal seeing Mark crawling on the bed between Jackson’s legs with such a sinful expression. They were about to make love for the first time, and it was in Alaska during their bonding trip. Jackson felt that no matter what happened next, he'd never forget this night, where he truly _made love_ and not just pretended while fucking around. 

“So pretty, Jackson…” Ah, the main culprit; this wolf in sheep's clothing. 

Jackson watched as Mark opened the bottle and poured the contents onto his fingers, but Mark wasn’t aiming for Jackson’s dick as he rubbed his fingers together. They shared a look that broke the tension between them. Jackson found himself heaving in anticipation. 

“Relax…” Mark smiled and nuzzled his face near Jackson’s cock, the pre-cum painting his cheek. It was picture-perfect – Jackson couldn’t stop himself from moaning. 

A wet and warm finger encircled Jackson’s entrance while Mark was still nudging at his cock. The scene was so erotic that it pulled moan after moan from Mark’s mouth; Jackson cursed and bucked his hips slightly.

“Baby,” Mark kissed the base of Jackson’s cock, “I want to eat you out. Your ass is so pretty.”

Jackson groaned, “Your dirty mouth, Tuan. I swear to _god—_ ” 

Not letting Jackson finish, Mark pushed his index finger inside his hole. “You’re going to like it. I can’t wait to hear you scream my name.”

 _‘I want that,’_ Jackson thought as Mark started moving his hand. Though fingering was nothing new to him, having someone’s else fingers – having Mark’s fingers up his ass felt like sinking into a chocolate bath. Warm, wet, soft, gentle, sweet, so _good_ that Jackson purred. Mark added two fingers quickly until Jackson felt so full that he started to push against them to release some tension from his walls. The burning was minimal, but fingers were _nothing_ compared to the real thing that was about to enter him.

When Mark suddenly swallowed the tip of Jackson’s cock, Jackson wasn’t surprised. He already knew all the tricks of topping. Still, it was something else to be receiving it for the first time, his mind drifting away from reality. 

“Mark…” he breathed out, snapping his hips against Mark’s mouth, “ _Mark, Mark…_ ”

Jackson closed his eyes, as the visual stimulation was too much for him to bear without coming straight away. He ran his fingers through Mark’s hair, his mouth full of moans and pleads as he felt the familiar warmth erupting in his gut. Nothing but Mark’s insanely skilled tongue mattered, the sucking, pressure, and vibrations when Mark hummed or moaned, the fingers fucking him slowly. Jackson squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Unable to warn Mark verbally, he pulled at his hair, and a second later, he was coming into the warmth of Mark’s mouth.

“You…” Jackson breathed heavily, still balancing on edge, “ _you…_ ” a pleased smile appeared on his face, “you…”

“Yeah?” Mark gently pulled his fingers out. “I what?”

“Your mouth is heaven.”

Mark laughed, “yeah after I swallowed, it turned into heaven indeed.” He placed a chaste kiss on Jackson’s pierced navel.

“What the heck?” Jackson threw a pillow at him. “You’re so sappy during sex.”

Mark hummed as his tongue lapped at the navel, gently pulling at the piercing with his teeth. Being played with, especially by his piercing, was one of Jackson’s guilty pleasures. When Mark pulled and sucked, his teeth clinging to the metal, Jackson felt the vibrations through his whole body. His thighs tensed, and his toes curled.

Before Jackson’s overstimulated mind could catch up with Mark, the latter was already crawling over Jackson’s body with a sly smile, his hips forcing Jackson to open his legs wider. Their groins met with Mark’s low moan as he pressed against Jackson and leaned down for a kiss. Soon his hips were grinding against Jackson, following Mark’s breathy moans. 

“I’m gonna be your first,” Mark nibbled at his lover’s lips. “Have you waited for me, baby?”

Jackson felt oversensitive, but Mark’s wet cock felt so absurdly _good_ against him that he couldn’t help but grind up against the other. “You are crazy; your dick is crazy,” Jackson moaned. 

“Have you waited for me?” Mark asked again, impatiently this time. “Tell me, have you waited for me to make love to you as you deserve?”

The words made Jackson embarrassed, a deep red color dusting his cheeks. _Perhaps_ this was a side-effect of love because never before had Jackson felt so fragile and powerful at the same time. The look Mark gave him made Jackson bare his whole soul to him. 

Jackson grabbed his nape and dragged him into an emotional kiss, which he disturbed only for a short moment to answer with a breathy _“Yes…_ ” 

They kept kissing for a while before Mark slipped away, provoking an adorable whine from Jackson. The things Mark was doing to him, all the first times he'd had – it was getting ridiculous how much of an effect Mark had on him. 

Jackson felt it while Mark sucked at his shoulder desperately, the brush against his hole, the slick and soft tip of Mark’s cock as he tested the waters. Jackson closed his eyes and tried to stay relaxed. 

“Mark…” Jackson slid his hands on his boyfriend’s back, gently scratching his skin and encouraging him, “I won’t break.”

 _Yeah_ , Jackson promised to concentrate only on the fact that Mark’s cock was penetrating him and filling him up for the first time. The pain would be washed away by the longing, and Jackson was too horny to pay attention to the burning anyways. Everything else disappeared; his whole existence orbited Mark’s cock, nothing else mattering but the pulsating, thick, and long cock that was ready to fill him to the brink. 

He was just so horny for Mark that it was driving him crazy. 

“Jackson, _Jackson_ …” 

When Mark started to move, he brushed against all the right spots in Jackson, making him flex his body like a cat. Mark pressed against his prostate, and Jackson felt like Mark’s dick was about to lock and rip him apart. The pressure was so intense that he had to compensate it on Mark’s neck and broad back. His blunt fingers left long red lines as he tried to stay relaxed for his lover. 

“You’re doing amazing, Jacks…” Mark kissed him, “You – you are so fucking sexy.” 

Mark’s breathy moans helped avert Jackson’s attention. “And you said my dick is problematic. Fuck you.”

 _Well_.

Mark laughed into Jackson’s neck, “Baby, I love you.”

“I don’t trust you for shit.”

“I love you, _love you_.” 

“I love you too, but not your dick.” Jackson hissed, “ _Fuck…_ ”

At that, Mark started to move again, inch by inch, carefully decreasing the pressure. It was the first pull at his raw walls that made Jackson feel on fire. As Mark pushed inside, he felt himself getting hard again, but the moment his dick moved against his prostate, Jackson felt like he was going to burst – the pain and pleasure were almost even. 

“I promised you'd feel good…” Mark licked his palm and spat into it. Then he wrapped it around Jackson’s semi-hard cock. The visuals helped Jackson move past the pain. Mark was like a sex god in his eyes, so hot, his lips red like wine. Asking for more, Jackson crossed his legs over Mark’s lower back and squeezed him between his thighs – prompting one of Mark’s whiniest moans that night. 

“Jackson, _Jackson_ ,my Jackson…” his hips snapped forwards, “Fuck, I’ve waited for you for so long. So long…” 

Jackson no longer knew what was going on. The night melted into an endless string of moans, where Jackson didn’t know if he should cry or scream Mark’s name. It felt surreal, like an abstract painting. His heartbeat drummed in his ears, the pain subsiding and fading into the background with each of Mark’s thrusts. Jackson didn't even know when he begged to go faster and rougher. The depths of his mind required the crazy combination of pain and pleasure. Mark took away the ache with each push and pull, and Jackson loved it. 

Despite the begging, Mark’s thrusts remained even and gentle to the very last moment. 

“You'd better fill me up, Mark. _Fill me up_ ,please, _please_ …” Jackson’s pleas died on his tongue with the last snaps of Mark’s hips. He came, breathless, with Mark’s fingers wrapped around his dick. The wave of pleasure knocked him back onto the bed, his body convulsing with Mark laying on top of him and holding him tightly in his arms. Jackson couldn’t stop squeezing around the pulsating dick in his ass. He couldn’t move or say a thing until the orgasm had thoroughly washed over him. 

And then, Mark was pulling out of Jackson and collapsing onto the pillows next to him. 

“It feels so fucking good to be loved by you.” Mark closed his eyes with a foolish smile.

Jackson turned his head to look at him. This moment was why Jackson didn’t want to have expectations because he knew Mark would ruin them anyway. Mark’s face was beautifully flushed, his lips rough from all the biting and kissing, and his wet hair messy as always. Jackson blinked lazily, a smile forming on his face. 

“I love you, Mark.” He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around Mark’s chest. 

Mark hummed happily, kissing the crown of Jackson’s head as he securely embraced him in his arms. “Can’t wait for you to ride me into the sunset.” 

“Sappy.” Jackson giggled, “It’s my turn next time.” 

**

When Jackson woke up that morning, he found a note on Mark’s side of the bed: _I needed to pee and my morning cup of coffee. Join me, pretty please._

It was so like Mark that it hurt. If there was a day Jackson had to spend without Mark’s presence in his life, he'd start throwing a tantrum. It was suddenly unbearable to even imagine being separated from his lover. 

Jackson felt that stupidly right kind of sore. It was good that Mark had made him wash right after, or he'd be so gross now that he'd have to bury himself back in bed and never see the sunlight again. He pulled on some sweatpants and a shirt with a hoodie.

In the kitchen, Jackson poured himself some coffee and grabbed a cookie that Mark had left on the table. He found his lover sitting on the couch in the living room with a fire crackling in the fireplace. When their eyes met, Jackson couldn’t help but smile like a fool. He plopped onto the sofa, almost spilling the coffee on himself, and brought his legs up. 

“Merry Christmas, birdy…” he leaned in and kissed Mark's cheek. 

Mark rested his head on Jackson’s shoulder, ignoring his messy hair that tickled Jackson’s chin. “Merry Christmas, baby.” 

“I think I got some of your sappiness…” Jackson blew the annoying hair from his face, “How can you live such an awkward life, Tuan?” 

“Well, it’s a burden, but someone had to take one for the team. A relationship without sappiness isn't real.” 

“You’re so dumb sometimes.” Jackson sipped his coffee and finished his cookie in two big bites.

“So,” Mark angled his head to look at his boyfriend, “how do you feel, baby? How’s your pretty bun?”

“We’re doing fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Aw, come on,” Mark pouted, “be more romantic. It was your first time, G.” 

Jackson felt his ears getting annoyingly warm. “So what?” He hid his embarrassment by drinking his coffee. 

“So? Will you let me fuck your ass again, or is it a no?” 

Jackson didn’t expect this topic to come up, but he remained calm as he put his cup away. His expression remained neutral until he felt Mark’s anxiety growing. Not being able to take it anymore, Jackson snapped his head to Mark and tackled him down onto the couch with giggles. 

“You sappy, sappy man!” He tickled his boyfriend. “I’ll give you everything. Everything, my En. Anything you want. Don’t pout!” 

Mark was wiggling and laughing under his fingers like a fish out of water. His legs were kicking around dangerously, but Jackson already knew how to deal with a squirmy Mark Tuan. When he found the right moment and opening, he dropped his whole weight between Mark’s legs and held him down. Jackson found himself wrapped in a koala hug. It felt so right and so good to be pressed against Mark, to feel his dick stirring in his pants, to feel the love radiating off of him in waves of warmth. 

When their breaths and hearts evened, Mark started playing with Jackson’s pink hair. "Do you want to visit the city today, or are you too sore?”

“I'm fine. I’ll go.” 

A sudden thought occurred to Jackson, and he lifted his head to look at Mark. “What was the ointment you used on me? I've never seen that.” 

“Oh, that?” Mark smiled proudly. “It’s a handmade Chinese medicine, baby. I’ll get you some.” 

Jackson hummed and let Mark brush away his fringe. “Did it help?” 

“I don’t know how a sore ass feels without the treatment, so – I guess it did. I can walk, and I was able to pin you down.” 

“I let you,” Mark cupped his face, “because you’re my baby.” He squeezed Jackson’s cheeks. 

“Stop, or I swear-” his voice was coming out funny, making Mark laugh. 

“Swear what? You always promise me things but end up doing nothing,” Mark teased him. 

“I might start counting your freckles for real.”

Mark quirked an eyebrow. “That’s hardly a threat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Mark blinked. “Yeah?”

“Then maybe I don’t want to punish you,” he pecked Mark’s lips. 

“You’re so damn cute, Wang.” 

Jackson laid his head back on Mark’s chest with a satisfied smile. “Then put a ring on me.”

Instead of answering, Mark kissed his head and tightened his hold around Jackson’s body. It was enough for Jackson – to feel appreciated and loved so much that he could hardly breathe. The sirens in his head went quiet for the first time in ten years. He no longer needed to be cautious and watch his tongue, to hide and desire from afar like a fool. The tangled mess occupying his mind unwound itself into a straight line, and silence filled Jackson’s head. 

No pain, no anger, no emergency. 

Jackson was free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Share your thoughts with me, please. I love the comments.  
> I guess because I'm not good at English people don't ♥ & bookmarks my stories much. I'm sorry. I'll try to improve, I promise. Or maybe I'm truly not that good. 😌  
> Thank you so much for reading ♥ I love you guys.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you, leave your thoughts in comments and ♥♥ too.


End file.
